A Dutch colleague from school, Peter, has a Mexican girlfriend and so spends all of his free time down here in Mexico City. We arranged to meet up today and go to Teotihuacan, a large pre-Columbian site with one of the largest pyramids in Mexico. His girlfriend advised him to seek out a fellow called “El Gorila” who had given her a tour some time ago, which she recommended we take. Entering through the main gate, we were told to look for a large fellow with grey hair and white trousers. Luckily, he was right by the entrance when we arrived and indeed, he did look just like a gorilla.
Whilst attempting to negotiate a fee for his services, which unlike the Middle East he seemed very easy going about, it became clear that he was already leading a large group of people around. They were milling about, staring through binoculars at various birds. All of them seemed to have binoculars and were staring at the various avians, in fact. A fellow, who introduced himself as Diego, told us the group were actually the cast and crew of the Lion King, who were touring around North and Central America. They had booked El Gorila for the day and were half way through the tour and were due to have lunch with him in a couple of hours. El Gorila and Diego seemed happy for us to join them for the tour leading up to the lunch, so we all headed in the direction of the ruins together.
The first stop should have raised some alarm bells. Standing by a tree, El Gorila pulled down some leaves and proceeded to spin a yarn about how they were used in courtship rituals and could heal all sorts of ailments. Claiming that putting a leaf behind the ear brought good luck in love inspired several of the cast (one could tell they were not crew as they were attractive) to put massive clumps in the hair and in their back packs. A more desperate cry for love could not have been more evident. Having been on a few guided tours before, I know that the guide likes to embellish a site with the mystical little tales which amuse the audience so nothing seemed too problematic.
We then descended into some excavations beneath the foundations of the city. Here was more typical explanation of how stones were laid and pointing out the irrigation and plumbing systems that were used, all standard stuff, and moderately interesting. El Gorila, then took out some pink candy from his large backpack and explained the Mayan origins of the food and the effect it has on one’s libido. Laughter all round. He then segued into describing what would be served for lunch at his house in a couple of hours: crickets, ant eggs, worms. I think I heard someone say, rather meekly, they were a vegetarian. I looked at Peter and raised my eyebrows.
Coming out of the underground area, we arrived in one of the large plazas at the foot of the pyramid. In the blazing sun, El Gorila got us all to sit around him in a circle. Delving into his large backpack, he pulled out a bright, multicoloured piece of cloth and an incense bowl. Placing them to his left, he asked who in the group was in touch with and loved nature to which a a blonde woman raised her hand. He asked her to join him by his side and then made her put on a red headband and told her to place some amber in the incense bowl, which he then lit. The bowl, he explained, would channel all our love and draw out all our illnesses. Passing out more sticky amber incense around the circle, he then told us that we would all have to say what was in our heart and what we wished for, whilst we placed the amber in the burning bowl. Starting with the blonde woman.
“I am grateful for the new beginning we are finding here in this most sacred place, and wish love and harmony for everyone on earth and that all evil can be removed if we learn to care for each other”.
I think I tried to look over at Peter, as the group turned to the next girl in the circle.
“I hope for peace on earth and for mankind to know eternal love. All the harm in the world can be eliminated if we look into each other’s souls.”
Desperately trying to not snigger, I was desperate to make eye contact with Peter. Surely, we couldn’t be about to take part in this weirdo, California cult love-in? I wanted to learn about the frickin’ old bricks lying about, not your inner spirituality, you bunch of fruit loops. But, no, the pressure built as two more people in the circle gave us their platitudinous solution for world peace and eternal love.
And then it was poor Peter, the matter of fact, down to earth, Dutchman’s turn: “I hope we can all learn to get along with each other.”
Ok, not too bad - but I sure as buggery didn’t want to learn to get along with these bunch of space cadets.
The girl next to me pleaded to the gods of this spiritual nexus to forgive her and remove the stain of evil from the world, and how life would be so much easier if fear was eradicated from our hearts, before bursting into tears.
Jesus H Christ.
You don’t need fear removed from your heart, sweetheart. You need good, long, hard and deep therapy.
So, my turn next. I couldn’t exactly say what was in my heart as it would have involved a complaint about the lack of catering facilities on site and that I sure as hell wasn’t going to be seing the Lion King anytime soon.
“Erm. I hope other people benefit from the hospitality of strange groups, in the same way that me and Peter have today.”
Yes, I really wished other people were enjoying this group’s hospitality. Instead of me. I did not lie.
Several more heart felt pleas for love were endured before El Gorila, placing the burning bowl in front of him, took out a large shell and told us he would now help us open up and clear out our chakras. We should reveal our hearts, close our eyes and assume the lotus position.
The only thing being opened up with this group of freakazoids was their fat, Western wallets. My chakra, along with everything else, was remaining firmly closed and would not be having anything going in or out of it, thank you very much.
“Chant after me: Om shanti Om. Om shanti Om.”
Ok, if you are going to go all spiritual and milk these dumb ass American theatre lovies, at least try and keep it geographically contiguous. Stick with the Mayan crap - but please - NOT BUDDHIST CHANTING TOO.
Blowing on the large shell (it sounded like a shofar), the chanting started. This is how death cults start, I thought. I wonder if this ends up with them all throwing themselves off the top of the pyramid. Now that, I would open up my chakra to see.
The chanting continued and the shell was blowing. Please let this end soon, Please let this end soon.
After a few more agonising minutes, it stopped. El Gorila announced: “We will all now walk in single file to the top of the temple pyramid, with our blonde goddess leading the way with the burning bowl of amber and incense. There, at the top, I will each discover your personal spirit animal and your Indian name.”
Finally, I made eye contact with Peter. There was no mistaking what we were both thinking. My spirit animal was trapped between two pieces of bun and had relish all over him and I didn’t want to wait to climb to the top of the pyramid with David Koresh and his followers before I had a chance to eat him. Hastily thrusting some money into El Gorila’s hands, we thanked everyone and got the f*** out of dodge.
As El Gorila waved goodbye to us, Peter with wonderful insight, said: “I should have been known something was wrong when I saw they were bird watchers.”