The Controversial Mayan Queen: Sak K'uk of Palenque (The Mists of Palenque) by Leonide Martin Page A
Authors: Leonide Martin
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sister in Sak Tz’i, a short distance southeast along the Chakamax River. There he remained for two moon cycles, giving time for Lakam Ha to re-settle after the attack.
His sister Manik now wanted him to come for another visit. Only two days earlier a messenger arrived bearing her request, a matter she considered urgent. Her health was declining and he felt obliged to leave immediately. Perhaps time away from the royal chambers and vacuous arts of Aj Ne Ohl Mat would clear his head and bring perspective on his discontent.
Travel during the rainy season was always a challenge, and quite risky when heavy rains cascaded down mountains to swell rivers into angry, boiling serpents hungry to devour trees and boats alike. The long canoe’s paddler waited until the rains slackened and rivers fell from turbulent heights. They embarked early while mists hovered over the plains and draped Lakam Ha’s mountaintops. The first day was spent on the Michol River that passed just below Lakam Ha, followed by a day over land through a well-cleared jungle trail to connect with the Chakamax River to the south. Another four days were necessary traveling with the current, past the small village of Nututun to reach Sak Tz’i.
Seated on a bench in the canoe with a deerskin canopy overhead, Uc Ayin was reasonably protected from the constant drizzle that persisted during their voyage. He wrapped a damp cotton shawl more tightly around his shoulders, shivering in the cool breeze. The hard wooden bench bruised his thin buttocks and his toes had congealed into numbness. Feeling perfectly miserable matched his dour mood. The river swirled in gray eddies and shimmered in slate expanses, the sky echoed grayness with its low cloud cover and intractable rain. Dripping water and the rhythmic slap of oars were the only sounds, not even a bird or monkey chattered to break the gloomy monotony.
Days of seamless repetition on the river gave small impetus to Uc Ayin’s life review. He found himself always in the same loop of what he was beginning to identify as self-pity. It was not his fault he was born a two-spirit, xib’il-x-ch’uup , known among the Maya as a male-female. The two-spirits comprised a third gender group, different from men or women that blended qualities of both sexes. Children were identified early as two-spirits because of their interest in dress and activities of the opposite sex. Most had an androgynous appearance and character, and often took sexual partners from both sexes. Ultimately, sexual preference was based on their primary gender identity.
Maya society clearly recognized and accepted this third gender, based on a well-established place in mythology. Primordial and creator deities were often androgynous, the “changing ones” with special shamanic powers who brought many inventions and technologies for the benefit of humanity. The androgynous persona of the Maize God, who represented First Father and wore feminine symbols of the net skirt, earth associations, flowers and ix-woman face with the Ik’ marking, created a powerful context for mixed-gender expressions. The Moon Goddess, while feminine, was often conflated with symbols of the Maize God. Twins often represent the combined male-female qualities, repeating the Maize-Sun God and Moon Goddess complementarities, seen in the Popol Vuh creator couple Xpiyakok and Xumkane and the Hero Twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque who became the Sun and Moon. Two-spirit humans often received their powers from one of these androgynous deities.
Uc Ayin regretted that even in this, his two-spirit nature, he had not attained anything of note. He was not called to spiritual leadership, possessed no shamanic abilities, was not a seer or prophet, not even a dream or vision interpreter. In the arts he had a modicum of talent, both with poetry and vase painting, but when these abilities were carefully scrutinized he had to admit his products were mediocre.
His life as a male-female two spirit was
His sister Manik now wanted him to come for another visit. Only two days earlier a messenger arrived bearing her request, a matter she considered urgent. Her health was declining and he felt obliged to leave immediately. Perhaps time away from the royal chambers and vacuous arts of Aj Ne Ohl Mat would clear his head and bring perspective on his discontent.
Travel during the rainy season was always a challenge, and quite risky when heavy rains cascaded down mountains to swell rivers into angry, boiling serpents hungry to devour trees and boats alike. The long canoe’s paddler waited until the rains slackened and rivers fell from turbulent heights. They embarked early while mists hovered over the plains and draped Lakam Ha’s mountaintops. The first day was spent on the Michol River that passed just below Lakam Ha, followed by a day over land through a well-cleared jungle trail to connect with the Chakamax River to the south. Another four days were necessary traveling with the current, past the small village of Nututun to reach Sak Tz’i.
Seated on a bench in the canoe with a deerskin canopy overhead, Uc Ayin was reasonably protected from the constant drizzle that persisted during their voyage. He wrapped a damp cotton shawl more tightly around his shoulders, shivering in the cool breeze. The hard wooden bench bruised his thin buttocks and his toes had congealed into numbness. Feeling perfectly miserable matched his dour mood. The river swirled in gray eddies and shimmered in slate expanses, the sky echoed grayness with its low cloud cover and intractable rain. Dripping water and the rhythmic slap of oars were the only sounds, not even a bird or monkey chattered to break the gloomy monotony.
Days of seamless repetition on the river gave small impetus to Uc Ayin’s life review. He found himself always in the same loop of what he was beginning to identify as self-pity. It was not his fault he was born a two-spirit, xib’il-x-ch’uup , known among the Maya as a male-female. The two-spirits comprised a third gender group, different from men or women that blended qualities of both sexes. Children were identified early as two-spirits because of their interest in dress and activities of the opposite sex. Most had an androgynous appearance and character, and often took sexual partners from both sexes. Ultimately, sexual preference was based on their primary gender identity.
Maya society clearly recognized and accepted this third gender, based on a well-established place in mythology. Primordial and creator deities were often androgynous, the “changing ones” with special shamanic powers who brought many inventions and technologies for the benefit of humanity. The androgynous persona of the Maize God, who represented First Father and wore feminine symbols of the net skirt, earth associations, flowers and ix-woman face with the Ik’ marking, created a powerful context for mixed-gender expressions. The Moon Goddess, while feminine, was often conflated with symbols of the Maize God. Twins often represent the combined male-female qualities, repeating the Maize-Sun God and Moon Goddess complementarities, seen in the Popol Vuh creator couple Xpiyakok and Xumkane and the Hero Twins, Hunahpu and Xbalanque who became the Sun and Moon. Two-spirit humans often received their powers from one of these androgynous deities.
Uc Ayin regretted that even in this, his two-spirit nature, he had not attained anything of note. He was not called to spiritual leadership, possessed no shamanic abilities, was not a seer or prophet, not even a dream or vision interpreter. In the arts he had a modicum of talent, both with poetry and vase painting, but when these abilities were carefully scrutinized he had to admit his products were mediocre.
His life as a male-female two spirit was
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