May 28, 2012
Cultural exchange disguised as teaching
Sydney, Michelle and Dan with the Standards III and IV students of Santa Cruz RC School
On Wednesday and Thursday of our first week in Toledo, we completed the service learning portion of our trip at Santa Cruz RC School, which educates the Mayan children of Santa Cruz village. With 109 students from ages 3-15, the school was ripe with opportunities for cultural exchange. Michelle and I spent the two days teaching Standards III and IV–effectively grades 4 and 5–with students ranging from 8-12 years old. Though the brief lessons we taught to them seem trivial, the eye-opening lessons we learned from working with them will undoubtedly stay with us long after traveling home.
Before discussing the cultural intricacies of Santa Cruz, it’s important to note something else: many, if not most, of inherent childhood traits are evidently cross-cultural. The first thing you can expect of preteens in school anywhere is a short attention span and an impeccable sense of the exact moment mid-morning break should start (the classroom clock was nonfunctional, but they always knew). Next, you wouldn’t be wrong to recall that there’s always an identifiable group of troublemakers; not only did they catalyze restlessness amongst one another, but also egged on the rest of their classmates. Lastly, girls were more likely to be shy, especially around the boys, and when they did interact it was often in the form of teasing.
Beyond what can be expected of any adolescents are the specific cultural cues of the Santa Cruz students. The majority of them come from families of farmers, and when not in school they’re often working to help their parents. English is their second language–their first is any one of the multiple Mayan languages spoken in the area. They know a great deal about the surrounding Mayan ruins, including Uxbenka and Lubantuun, and are enthusiastic about their heritage–they expressed a desire to travel to more sites throughout the country. Lastly, and perhaps most significant to our visit, was the fascination the students had about us and where we come from–they were insatiably eager to learn about our families and see all of the pictures we could show them.
Over the course of two days, Michelle and I (with Dan’s much needed help) taught the students some basic lessons on geometry, grammar, and science. Dan also gave an impromptu lesson on religion when the teacher unexpectedly left the room after asking several questions to the students about morality. Most entertaining was the lesson we taught the students about the components of a story. At the end of day one, we split the students into groups and asked them to come up with their own stories, with easily identifiable characters, settings, and plots. One group affectionately wrote a story about Michelle and I getting lost in the woods and later being saved from a hungry tiger by the unfailingly brave Dan. On the morning of the second day, the students were tasked with acting out their stories to the rest of the class. Even the students who didn’t regularly show interest in learning were excited–we were certainly glad to have found an engaging way to teach them (and keep them under control).
Santa Cruz RC School has high ambitions
Alphine Avila has worked at Santa Cruz RC School for 4 years, and is currently serving her first year as principal (while also teaching Standards III and IV). She opened up to us and shared some interesting insights about the school, the students, and her personal experience as principal. The first thing Michelle and I learned from Alphine is that a sizable portion of the students aren’t as hard working as they need to be in order to do well–something she attributed to the fact that they don’t always receive adequate encouragement and support at home. This usually happens because the students’ parents are either too preoccupied with their own farm work, or feel that their child’s time would be better spent contributing to the family than to learning. Alphine admitted that because the students must often flip flop between school behavior and home behavior, it’s difficult to narrow their focus. She also shared with us that there’s been considerable resistance to her position as principal because of the reform she has recently tried bringing to the school. Among the things she mentioned were including more field trips, and cutting the sports program back slightly with hopes of improving the school’s standardized test scores, which have been low in previous years. Additionally, she often has to leave her own classroom during the school day to attend to problems with students in other classes. She hopes to return as principal next year but is unsure of her future with the school.
Overall, working at the school was a unique experience for all involved. We were able to learn about current Mayan culture and the Belize school system at the same time, and we hope to have imparted some memorable lessons to the students of Santa Cruz.
Sydney MacEwen, an LA native, is an upcoming Junior pursuing a BS in Environmental Studies and a minor in Geological Hazards. This is her first trip to Belize. She’s particularly interested in climate change and related policy. She hopes to pursue a Master of Arts in Environmental Studies following her undergraduate education.
May 25, 2012
Place of Fallen Stones
Steps overlooking a main plaza at Lubaantun. Photo by Dan Killam.
Lubaantun were the first ruins that our group encountered and despite the long hot trek we had before this particular visit, we were all excited to finally witness the famous Mayan ruins. Due to the on and off light showers, the ground was exceptionally muddy, which made it a challenge to not slip and slide down the hill. The first thing I noticed about the site was that there was an unbelievably steep hill that we had to climb up. It looked almost impossible for us to come back down the same hill without slipping on the mud. Bruno, our German banker turned tour guide and all-around-expert on Belize mentioned that the center of the site is artificially elevated between two small rivers, which is an excellent military defense strategy. This might suggest that the ruins are evidence of some sort of Mayan military camp or fortress.
During the tour of the ruins, Bruno mentioned two things that made the site a unique location unlike the other ruins around the area. Firstly, the sight is infamous for being the location where Anna Mitchell-Hedges allegedly discovered a crystal skull. This has been long debated because of the lack of physical evidence as well as conflicting personal accounts of her father’s colleagues. Dr. Thomas Gann who is credited to be the first academic to investigate the site accompanied her father, F.A. Mitchell-Hedges. Besides the actual skull and the testimonies of both F.A. and Anna Mitchell-Hedges, there has been no other evidence to support their claims that the skull was actually found in Lubaantun. Additionally, there has been no reported tombs or even human sacrifices in the site; therefore, the presence of such an artifact is unlikely.
The name Lubaantun means ‘place of fallen stones’ in Mayan, which I believe describes the site’s physical appearance quite well. The site is believed to have been occupied during the Maya Classic era; however, it displays uncommon and unusual architecture for its location and time period. Lubaatun is known to have buildings that are built from large black slate blocks that are laid with little to no mortar. Furthermore, several structures are evenly stacked like stairs until the finished building resembles a pyramid. It is impressive to see that some buildings have stood the test of time and are still standing despite the lack of mortar; however, the Belizean government have attempted the rehabilitation certain buildings by rebuilding them. Bruno pointed out which areas were original and which were rebuilt. I understand why the government would opt to rebuild such buildings because it would look more aesthetically pleasing to see a more complete and cohesive site; however, I believe that the government should work more towards preserving the site as it to stay true to its name as the ‘place of fallen stones’.
Above: interactive panorama of Lubaantun from Dan Killam’s 2011 trip to Belize
Britanny Cheng is an incoming junior at the University of Southern California where she is pursuing a degree in Environmental Studies. She attributes her love for the environment to her upbringing in the Philippines where she was exposed daily to ocean. This inspired her to become a certified advanced water diver where she specializes in night dives. In the future, she plans on hopefully research diving for a living whilst increasing awareness for the implementation of marine reserves in the Philippine waters.
Lacustrine Time Machine Investigates the Duration of Mayan Civilization in Petén, Guatemala
Scientists have discovered a time machine that allows them to analyze records of environmental change to particular land areas subsequent to the duration of Mayan civilization. It’s not an actual device that physically transports them back in time but actually involves the recovery of sediment cores from lakes.
That’s right, the study of accumulated particulate matter helps scientists form a chronology behind the colonization and decline of the Mayan civilization hundreds of years ago. Though the timeline produced from these analyses may not be exact, the evidence proved that the Mayan population significantly impacted the environment they inhabited.
Location and detail of Lake Salpeten
Lake Salpetén, a small closed basin, located in Petén, Guatemala, the southern Maya lowlands, gives scientists access to sedimentation fit for analysis. According to an article entitled, “A 4000-Year Lacustrine Record of Environmental Change in the Southern Maya Lowlands, Pete ́n, Guatemala,” which was written by Michael F. Rosenmeier, David A. Hodell, Mark Brenner, and Jason H. Curtis, the recovery of composite sediment from Lake Salpetén in 2002 provided the first ever high-resolution record of environmental change in the lowlands. I found the human-induced changes to the lake sedimentation to be most interesting.
Certain geochemical variations in the sediment cores reflected the existence of the Mayan population. As the Mayans settled into Lake Salpetén’s area and expanded agriculture through deforestation, there was an increase in soil erosion. In the case of human-induced soil erosion, changes in land use, management and degradation can cause erosion. This movement of soils causes frequent changes in material transfers from the land to the lake as well as in watershed vegetation.
When soil is removed from the land it accumulates in low-lying areas like Lake Salpetén. The displaced soil consists of several different particles representing organic and inorganic matter. Organic matter includes those materials that are essential to soil processes (i.e. wood, seeds and charcoal). Inorganic matter includes particles such as sand, silt and clay. In particular, the presence of corn pollen suggested to researchers that Mayans populated the area because corn crops were important to the Mayan culture.
When there was more organic matter present than inorganic matter within the sedimentation, scientists concluded that there was a less dense population occupying the basin during that time, which was indicative of the fact that there was minimal human activity. On the other hand, when there was more inorganic matter present than organic matter within the sedimentation, scientists inferred that there was a more dense population inhabiting the basin around that time, which suggested to scientists that there was quite a bit of human activity.
Scientists then compared the recovery of these sediments to the already established archaeological prehistory of the region in order to create a chronology of the Mayans’ impact on the surrounding area of Lake Salpetén.
Oxygen isotope data from Rosenmeier et al's survey of the lake.
In addition to the analysis of physical properties within the sediment cores, scientists also considered the change in chemical properties such as the shifts in organic carbon concentrations. Organic carbon is simply any carbon that has come from living organisms such as trees, grass, or leaves. The amount of organic carbon concentration found in the sedimentation correlates to the potential amount of population inhabiting the basin. High amounts of organic carbon concentrations indicated the presence of fewer population numbers while low amounts suggested a boom in the Mayan civilization.
The study found that before the peak height of the Mayan civilization around 1700 B.C., there were high amounts of organic carbon concentrations. This was probably due to the fact that the Mayans were still in their initial stages of settlement. Scientists also took note of low amounts of organic carbon concentrations approximately between 900 B.C. and 850 A.D., which was a time when the Mayan population was reportedly in high numbers. During this particular time period, there was also a boost in human activities such as agriculture expansion and forest clearing, both of which led to the increase of soil erosion and of accumulated sedimentation in Lake Salpeten.
However, sometime around 850 A.D. marked the beginning of the fall of the Mayan civilization. As proof of this factor, the amount of organic carbon concentrations suddenly increased. The reduction in anthropogenic activities and decline in Mayan population allowed the recovery of forests and stabilization of soils, which in turn, allowed for more organic carbon concentrations to gather in the sediment.
In relation to more recent years, evidence from the sediment cores implied a decrease in organic carbon concentrations. This finding correlates to the repopulation of the Mayans in the last 300 years. Thus, the commencement of agriculture expansion and deforestation as well as the influx of inorganic matter are in place yet again.
The ability of scientists to track the history of the Mayan civilization through analyzing composite sediment profiles is impressive. It not only demonstrates the power of today’s technology and intelligence but also of the earth’s capacity to preserve its own history. Though the study of sediment accumulation in Lake Salpetén was considerably successful, it is only because the conditions of this lake provided fairly pristine material. It would be difficult to perform such an examination on composite sediment taken from lakes in the United States, for example. This is because the bodies of water like the Great Lakes and the Mississippi river are not as well preserved as Lake Salpetén and are constantly disturbed by human activity and urbanization.
Source:
Rosenmeier, Michael F et al. “A 4000-Year Lacustrine Record of Environmental Change in the Southern Maya Lowlands, Petén, Guatemala.” Quaternary Research 57.2 (2002): 183-190.
Ticia Lee is a sophomore majoring in Public Relations and minoring in Environmental Studies. Upon graduation, she hopes to work for a company that effectively communicates environmental awareness to the general public. Being a city girl from San Francisco, Ticia enjoys spending time in the great outdoors as much as she can. This is her second time participating in one of USC Dornsife’s Problems Without Passport programs.
Disease & Population Loss in Mesoamerica
Maya manuscript illustrating the symptoms of cocoliztli
As is widely known, the Mayan people saw a significant loss in population starting around AD 770. There is no conclusive evidence indicating one specific cause of this collapse; most likely, it was a combination of several contributing factors. Centuries later, Mesoamerica faced another widespread population decline in the 1500s. Again, it is nearly impossible to pinpoint what caused this occurrence. The data indicate that disease may have been a causative factor in the Maya collapse, though the identity of the disease itself is a mystery due to the lack of preserved human remains. However, data indicates that there were extended droughts occurring in the years leading up to both of these crashes in population. In addition, there is evidence that the sixteenth century population decline was caused primarily by a hemorrhagic fever that was likely associated with the drought. Because of the similarities between the long drought and following population decline, it is possible that an increase in disease similar to what was seen in 16th century Mesoamerica was also the cause of the collapse of the Mayan people.
The Maya were once a highly successful and advanced people with a number of large cities and an impressive population. They developed their culture over several thousand years leading up to their most prosperous years from AD 250 to 750, which is known as the Classic Period. Then, around AD 770, the Maya culture began to disintegrate; towns and cities were vacated, the production of fine art declined, and trade and construction decreased. The great city of Teotihuacan also fell during this time period, known as the Terminal Classic. Other large cities were soon deserted as well; this trend continued until almost all the major city centers were abandoned by AD 950. There is no evidence supporting any single explanation for this dramatic population loss. The severe decrease may have been caused by decline in agriculture, social or political issues, or natural causes such as drought to name a few. Whatever the cause, it is certain that the Maya civilization had collapsed.
Several hundred years later, the same region witnessed another significant loss in population. While there were, again, several possible factors influencing this decline, there is one explanation for a great majority of the deaths that occurred during the 1500s. A hemorrhagic fever, which was called Cocoliztli, ravaged through Mesoamerica. Two epidemics of Cocoliztli, occurring in 1545 and 1576 respectively, killed a total of 13 million people. The origins of this devastating disease remain unknown, but it is known that it worked quickly and effectively, as it was almost always fatal. Symptoms ranged from headache and fever to dementia, nodule formation, and bleeding from all orifices before eventual death. Interestingly, the more severe symptoms of Cocoliztli only affected the native inhabitants of Mesoamerica; it was this population that faced such high mortality. This deadly disease resulted in a population collapse that was comparable in severity to the occurrences of the Terminal Classic Period.
While there are obvious differences between the collapses during the Terminal Classic Period and the sixteenth century, both occurred during similar environmental conditions. Evidence indicates that during the years before both population declines, the region was facing a period of severe drought. As indicated by data from tree rings, a long drought happened from AD 700 to AD 900 that stretched as far north as the Southwestern United States. The tree ring data also revealed that there were some periods of rain during the drought. There were similar brief wet periods during the drought of the sixteenth century; these occurred around 1545 and 1576, which coincides with both of the Cocoliztli outbreaks. The deadly outbreaks seem to be a result of the conditions of a wet period occurring during a drought.
While there is no full explanation for either the Terminal Classic or sixteenth century population collapses, there is data to show that the drought conditions during both times were very similar. Both declines were set during long, severe droughts that were broken up by short, wet periods. The specific conditions that resulted in the Cocoliztli outbreaks in the sixteenth century were therefore also present during the collapse of the Maya. The repetition of these similar and unique conditions therefore seems to indicate the possibility of Cocoliztli outbreaks during the Terminal Classic Period, which may have contributed to the significant population decline. Given the millions of deaths that the fever outbreaks caused in a relatively short span, it does seem possible that Cocoliztli could have also caused the similarly rapid and severe loss of the Mayan people. Although we would need more sound evidence to be certain, an outbreak of the deadly Cocoliztli disease may provide an explanation for the collapse of the Mayan civilization.
Lindsey Estes is a junior from Federal Way, Washington. She is currently pursuing a B.A. in Environmental Studies with a minor in Political Science.
Self-Inflicted Wounds
Joseph Tainter, anthropologist at Utah State University
In order to thoroughly understand societal collapse, it is important to explore the idea that, often times, the “nail in the coffin” for many societies is a bad decision, or collection of bad decisions, that the society itself makes. Joseph Tainter, an archaeologist, argues in his book The Collapse of Complex Societies, that believing any society willingly depletes its own natural resources requires the assumption that “these societies sit by and watch the encroaching weakness without taking corrective actions.” He goes on to point out that the inherent purpose of a governmental institution is to counter societal fluctuations that negatively impact productivity, and that it is “curious that they would collapse when faced with precisely those conditions they are equipped to circumvent.” It does not intuitively make sense that any society would intentionally sabotage its own success or well-being, perhaps because the pathways to poor decision-making are often convoluted and unclear. Naturally, no two societal collapses would mirror one another, both for cultural and geographical differences; there is no single answer as to why societies make decisions that undermine their own achievement and stability. In his book Collapse, Jared Diamond attempts to lay a general roadmap of the different circumstances that lead civilizations to disrupt previous prosperity.
The first group of disastrous decisions falls under the broad category of groups failing to anticipate a problem before it arrives. For instance, some societies may not be adequately prepared for extended drought or natural disasters such as hurricanes and floods. Several different causes are responsible for the failure to foresee an obstacle. First, and most simply, a society may not expect a problem because they have never dealt with the problem before. A society just developing its own agricultural systems has no clear understanding of sustainable farming practices, and conversely their own ability to cause, at least in the short-term, irreversible damage to agricultural land. Diamond notes that decisions under this category are particularly unfortunate because the actions are carried out intentionally (421), with the society completely ignorant of the consequences. Past experience with a problem, however, is not necessarily enough to prevent a society from committing devastating decisions: often times, the last occurrence of such a dilemma is so far in the past as to be forgotten. This is particularly troubling for non-literate societies with no written record of the cause and effect of a particular decision.
Jared Diamond
Even literate societies may make the same violations. Diamond references the United States’ forgotten recognition of gas guzzling vehicles in the 70’s (422), as we today utilize many fuel-inefficient vehicles (although rising gas prices are beginning to encourage a positive transition). Converse to Tainter’s theory, inability to see a problem coming is one of the primary causes of poor decision making; it is also possible that once the consequences of an action do become apparent, the society may be unaware of how to combat it, especially having never done so before.
Next, Diamond identifies a form of decision-making governed by failure to perceive a problem that has actually arrived. One basic cause of bad decision-making, in this case, is that some problems have completely imperceptible origins or consequences. An example of this idea is soil erosion: often times, there are no visible indicators that soils are becoming nutrient-depleted, so people are not alerted to let the soil fallow in order to recover. Another less obvious example would be modern day global warming; although we have the technology to record minute changes in temperature, society as a whole seems minimally encouraged to lessen the actions responsible for anthropogenic climate change because small temperature changes, though significant to the environment, are nearly undetectable by humans. Another cause of failure to perceive an existent problem is when it is a very slowly changing trend, hidden by fluctuations believed to be naturally occurring, as with temperature change. This phenomenon is known as “creeping normalcy,” because the “baseline standard for what constitutes ‘normalcy’ shifts gradually and imperceptibly” (425). Similarly, another form of creeping normalcy is known as “landscape amnesia.” Landscape amnesia occurs when the appearance of the landscape changes dramatically over a considerable time period, usually multiple decades, and the past landscape is forgotten. This could have been especially problematic in the past when life spans were much shorter, because newer generations would have no record of past landscapes, and thus no understanding that past actions caused the landscapes to change.
Lastly, even once a problem has been perceived, some societies may make no attempt to solve it, for a multitude of possible reasons. Often times, these reasons come in the form of conflicting interests, or in the form of societies rationalizing their inaction in the face of a clear problem. One example, known as “the tragedy of the commons,” is a combination of both factors. The “tragedy of the commons” occurs when multiple parties share a common resource without any regulation about how much of the resource each party can exploit. This leads the individual parties to the mindset that whatever portion of the resource they do not harvest, another of the parties will, so there is no use in employing moderation; effectively, the “tragedy of the commons” is a rationalization for not exercising restraint. Another example of failure to resolve a present problem, an example especially relevant to the Maya, is when “interests of the decision-making elite in power clash with the interests of the rest of society” (430). The Maya kings were typically preoccupied with regional wars and erecting monuments to better their own reputations, leading to inaction about the woes of the commoners. Because of their high status, Maya rulers had little difficulty isolating themselves from the problems, thereby making them dismissible. Often times, religious or moral values are directly inhibitive to a society’s willingness to solve a problem. Diamond refers to the complete deforestation of Easter Island. Although an extremely disastrous decision, the people of Easter Island were religiously motivated to cut down the island’s trees “to obtain logs to transport and erect the giant stone statues,” (432) for which the past society is famous. Finally, failure to address serious problems can result from public opinion that previous warnings were false alarms, or from public dislike for the identifier of the problem.
Diamond makes it abundantly clear that there are endless numbers of pathways that allow or encourage societies to make choices that ultimately contribute to their own demise, whether or not they are aware of the potential consequences. No one reason can be assigned to all societal collapses, because the set of circumstances for each society are often completely unique. One thing important to recognize is that not all societies fail because of their decisions; some societies anticipate, perceive, and attempt to solve their problems, but fail for other reasons, including not having the capacity to solve the problem, not having the financial resources to solve the problem, or not having become aware of the problem soon enough to fix it. Additionally, not all disastrous decisions lead to failure, and not all societies collapse. The most important question to ask of societal collapse is if, and how, it is manifesting today. Are modern day people making some of the disastrous decisions laid out by Diamond that could eventually leave us obsolete? Only time may tell.
Sydney MacEwen, an LA native, is an upcoming Junior pursuing a BS in Environmental Studies and a minor in Geological Hazards. This is her first trip to Belize. She’s particularly interested in climate change and related policy. She hopes to pursue a Master of Arts in Environmental Studies following her undergraduate education.
May 24, 2012
Eladio’s Farm: Cacao and the Modern Mayan
Continuing our immersion into Belizean culture, we began our second full day abroad by paying a visit to Agouti Cacao Farm. Owned by Eladio Pop, a native to the nearby Mayan village San Pedro Columbia, the farm was a must-see for our class as an excellent example of both sustainable and modern Mayan agriculture, not to mention an opportunity to taste some cacao first-hand. But while the smoky seed did linger in our mouths upon leaving Eladio’s farm and family, it is the man’s refreshing take on agricultural life that I think will accompany us home from Belize.
Equipped with hiking boots and water bottles, we began our visit by following Eladio as he wound about his cacao farm, an area he lovingly characterized as where his “mind and heart move around.” Indeed, the farm itself is worth full description, as it is unlike any I have encountered in the United States. A ten-acre parcel of land nestled within Eladio’s thirty-acre jungle property, Agouti Cacao Farm first appears to be more of a forest than a farm. With diverse plant growth scattered over hills, collected within valleys, and framed by winding streams, the area exemplifies “organic” agriculture in the purest sense. In stark contrast to the predominant homogeneity of American agriculture, Eladio annually harvests mangos, Jamaican limes, avocados, bread fruit, bananas, and many other fruits right among his staple crop, the cacao seed. Yet, with no need for chemicals or machinery, the farmer finds his work quite manageable. Armed with only a machete, Eladio’s work consists primarily of clearing, pruning, and planting. As for the rest, he believes that nature has a way of looking after itself.
Hilltop view of Eladio's farm
Herein lies the genius of Agouti Cacao Farm. It became clear as we talked with Eladio during the tour and afterward at his house that his seemingly unconventional approach to growing cacao is not merely a product of modern Mayan agricultural pragmatism. For also in a larger sense, Eladio grows cacao in a way that also encapsulates his modern Mayan spirituality. In fact, his most memorable addresses to us concerned how he views his relationship with the cacao in a spiritual context. As he sees it, the cacao tree is not something to control, something to raise and destroy at the whim of one’s personal concern. Instead, it is something to be cared for and attended to as a piece of divine creation, even if that means breaking from the slash-and-burn ways of his Mayan ancestors. In this way, Eladio defines his stewardship to the cacao tree as stewardship to God, that task which he feels is his own divine “calling.” Farming the cacao, then, far transcends familial sustenance and becomes a spiritual exercise, a “labor of love” in which Eladio personally finds himself closer to God. Just as the cacao provides the farmer with physical nourishment, so does its cultivation provide him with spiritual nourishment.
Eladio picking a cacao fruit from one of his trees.
Inside of the cacao fruit
With this relationship between the agricultural and the spiritual in mind, being able to eat and drink the cacao with Eladio was special to our class for far greater reasons than its delicious taste. Being able to share this experience so intimately with Eladio provided us with an understanding of the relationship between at least one modern Mayan and his cacao that academic writing could never adequately communicate. Furthermore, in the context of our class, our visit to Agouti Cacao Farm brought us one step closer to understanding the relationship between modern Belizeans and their environment.
Sean Drake is a sophomore from Cincinnati, Ohio. As a double-major in Classics and Environmental Studies, his main interest is the intersection of ancient civilizations and the environment. As a result, he is interested in the link between the native Maya and their homeland. On the side, Sean loves to scuba dive as well as run as captain on the USC Marathon Team. He hopes to one day pursue a career in coastal management.
May 23, 2012
Using proxies to measure rainfall
Three different sediment time series from the Cariaco Basin.
Dr. Gregory Haug and colleagues raised a question: “does climate make history?” in their 2003 paper they presented scientific evidence that supported the theory that drought due to climate change caused the collapse of the Maya civilization. Unexpectedly, everyone has their own unique answer to the open-ended question and I will attempt to explain my thought process and my final answer.
History can be defined as a study of past events and by this definition, anything, including climate can make history because it has the ability to influence individuals who can observe, examine and record the climate. Additionally, climate can make history because of its ability to leave physical evidence of its presence or change in a variety of ways. There is no question that climate has physically affected the earth is more ways than one; however, we as scientists, still struggle to find the most accurate and definitive method to represent climate in the past. Haug, et al. 2003 successfully draws a proxy, where they utilize a new method for the measuring bulk sediment chemistry; therefore, developing a substantial record of river-derived inputs to the Cariaco Basin.
The Cariaco Basin is located off northern Venezuela and the sediments of this basin are considered a superior proxy to other paleoclimate proxies. It provides an excellent comparison to the ancient Mayan climate and environment because the basin shares the same climate regime as the center of the Maya civilization. Additionally, the Caricao basin is anoxic, which preserves most of the sediment as it were thousands of years ago during the peak of Maya civilization. The anoxic environment also prevents any small organisms from burrowing in the sediment and disturbing the deposition pattern. The Cariaco basin is an ideal location because of its detailed resolution. Scientists are able to gather data at a bimonthly resolution, which makes analysis and comparison much more accurate as there is significantly more evidence to support their claims.
So how exactly does climate make history? Climate can leave physical evidence and data for an extended amount of time, allowing scientists to determine exactly what and how the climate was during that period. The primary method of data collection in the Cariaco basin is measuring for titanium content in the sediment. Haug explains that the light and dark laminations preserved in the sediments of the Cariaco basin are the direct result of significant regional changes in climate due to the seasonal shifts in the position of the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ). Light colored laminae deposit biogenic compounds during the dry upwelling season during the winter and the spring when the ITCZ is the its southernmost position, making trades winds stronger.
Uniquely, individual dark laminae are extremely rich in terrigenous grains and contain a significant amount of titanium. Their interpretation of the titanium content in soil suggests that they can determine the regional hydrologic changes and variations of the mean ITCZ with time in comparison to the Holocene Cariaco record. Similarly, the light laminae have significantly less titanium levels, which suggest a dryer climate at that time period. Haug et al defined very clear parameters towards what the data represented. Dark laminae and higher titanium levels indicated increased water levels as they are deposited during the wet rainy season when the ITCZ is located in the most northerly position, almost directly over the actual basin. On the other hand, light laminae and lower titanium levels suggested lower water levels due to biogenic components that were deposited during the dry upwelling season when the ITCZ is at its southernmost position and there are significantly stronger trade winds along the coast of Venezuela. The connection between rainfall and river sediment input is recorded in the laminated nature of the sediments in the Cariaco Basin. Paired laminations in the sediments are produced by large changes in wind and rainfall due to seasonal changes caused by the position of the ITCZ and its convective activity; therefore, if the ITCZ fails to migrate north then the basin and its surrounding areas will be experience drought due to trade winds.
The well-defined and strict boundaries of the data comparison further strengthen the proxy. Simply put, scientists are able to identify within a bi-monthly scale, the climate, moisture levels and water availability in the center of the Maya civilization during ancient times.
Ultimately, Haug was able to conclude with the help of the data he has gathered that the Maya civilization became too ambitious after a period of productivity and abundant rainfall from AD 550 to AD 750 and that their population expanded way past the land’s carrying capacity; therefore, when a drought occurred, there was not enough water left to sustain the population. As seen in the image below, the evidence supports the theory that megadroughts were one of the causes behind the collapse of the Maya civilization. Additionally, it is arguable that the data provided is significantly substantial and conclusive because other data such as independent paleoclimatic data from similar areas like Lake Valencia and Lake Titicaca, can be criticized for being too vague or showing the natural variability of climate; however, the image clearly shows that the sediments from the Cariaco basin which had the least amount of titanium correlate with other proxies when there was low rainfall, suggesting the presence of light colored laminae instead of dark colored laminae. It is not that the laminae are light but that low Ti means that there is low rainfall, less runoff.
In conclusion, Haug poses an interesting question as to if climate can in fact write history. I firmly believe that climate can because of the abundance of physical evidence that we have found but we see how climate can greatly influence an entire civilization, which creates events that are worthy of being called history.
Britanny Cheng is an incoming junior at the University of Southern California where she is pursuing a degree in Environmental Studies. She attributes her love for the environment to her upbringing in the Philippines where she was exposed daily to the ocean, inspiring her to become a certified advanced water diver, specializing in night dives. In the future, she plans on hopefully research diving for a living whilst increasing awareness for the implementation of marine reserves in the Philippine waters.
May 22, 2012
Our introduction to the Garinagu
After a 5-hour van ride from Belize City airport, we arrived late last night at Sun Creek Lodge (outside the town of Punta Gorda) where we will be staying until next Monday. Our digs consist of open-air cabañas planted in the middle of what looks like pure jungle, complete with all of the bustle you would expect to come with one—little frogs, swarms of leaf-cutter ants, tarantulas and moths with wingspans bigger than your hand. Sean even had the opportunity to get intimate with a particular spider, making face contact with an impressively thick web that could easily rival any work of Charlotte’s.
Early this morning we set out for the village of Barranco, accessible only by a bumpy dirt road with puddles that splash up against the van as it rattles its way along. Our guide Bruno, a soft-spoken expat from Germany, handles the 1-hour drive with acclimated ease as we pass through thatch-roofed villages and slash-and-burnt fields. Nearing Barranco, Bruno points out a small, concrete structure with the words “Medic Post” and “U.S. Capital Energy” painted on the front in big black letters.
We finally stop in front of a one-story house made of wooden planks and topped by tin. The door opens and Alvin, our local guide, comes out to meet us. Alvin is a Garifuna local who was born in Barranco and, apart from extensive traveling (reflected in his eloquent manner and worldly perspective), has lived there his entire life. The Garinagu (plural for Garifuna) are descendents of Carib, Arawak, and West African peoples who converged on the island of St. Vincent in the 17th century and struggled repeatedly against colonization by the French and British. After Britain gained control of the island in 1763, many Garinagu sought refuge along the eastern coast of Central America. Barranco is one of the communities that formed on the coast of Belize, with a current population of 160.
Alvin gives us a brief history of the Garinagu people.
Alvin walks us over to the small bluff next to the ocean that inspired Barranco’s original name, Red Cliff, though the distinctive red clay is now covered over by vegetation and the cliffs have significantly receded. The coast is experiencing heavy erosion, the effects of which are clearly visible even within Alvin’s lifetime. They try to keep it at bay by planting coconut trees and rubber tires; perfect rings of Goodyear moss whimsically dot the sandbar. Alvin also points out the mangroves that shield the coast from the full impact of hurricanes, and, as we head back into the village, the plants that provide their herbal remedies. These include the cola nut, which induces vomiting in case of food poisoning, and the piss-a-bed, which deals with urinary tract-related issues.
The coastal cliffside which offers views of Guatemala to the south.
Continuing through Barranco we pass by an orange-and-white tower of monolithic proportions, easily the tallest structure for miles around. The cell phone tower, recently installed by U.S. Capital Energy, has enabled more efficient means of communication both within the village and with their relatives abroad. But this comes at a cost. U.S. Capital arrived in Barranco three years ago to begin seismic testing for oil extraction in the Sarstoon/Temash National Forest, which borders the village. They were given the okay by the Belizean government, who established the national park and controls all operations within it. When the park was first set up, there were strict rules banning fishing, planting, and harvesting. This came as a surprise to the Garinagu, who had depended on the area’s resources for hundreds of years. Now it was being offered up for the possibility of oil drilling.
Alvin’s views on development are ambivalent and I get the sense that he doesn’t want to discuss it further than acknowledging that “progress brings problems.” He speaks appreciatively of the cultural, intellectual, and economic exchange that modern development has made possible. He also cherishes Garinagu culture and is so clearly passionate about sharing and preserving it (he told us it was his calling). The two shouldn’t have to be mutually exclusive. But in a hierarchical world of infinite competing interests, and especially a country as diverse as Belize, the people most affected by big decisions tend to be the last ones consulted.
Spongebob graffiti - a fun example of global exchange.
We come upon a garbage dump at the southern edge of the village where the jungle starts to encroach and swallow up the trash. “We haven’t figured out the best way to deal with the garbage,” Alvin says. “Us either,” Dan tells him. After a visit to the Barranco cultural museum, which is a single room packed with photos, traditional clothing, Garifuna texts and handmade tools for processing cassava—a labor of love, according to Alvin—our tour concludes at the village’s spiritual house. Here he tells us about the spiritual healing ceremonies that occur something like every 1-2 years, events that must be precipitated by a spiritual calling from the ancestors (as in a dream or sign) and then attended by the entire extended family. It is a way to resolve spiritual illness as well as a reason for people who have left Barranco to come back and be reunited with their family and roots once again.
It’s refreshing to hear Alvin explain his understanding of spirituality and how it has served him and others in great ways. As a non-religious person by habit, I appreciate living affirmations that the worldview that I’m used to is not the only one that works. We found it interesting that the Roman Catholic institution in Belize, which had originally banned drumming and dancing in the churches as pagan worship, changed its mind after coming to the decision that the Garinagu were just using a different means to the same end. They are the only Christian denomination in Belize that allows it.
At the end of our trip, we got to dance with some of the drummers and singers, including Alvin’s aunt and “brother from another mother.” Awkwardly, at first—okay, it was mostly awkward, all of us trying to shake our hips to an impossibly fast beat—but you can’t deny the entertainment value there. As Alvin likes to say: “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.”
Michelle Lim is a rising senior from Queens, NY, currently double-majoring in Narrative Studies and Interdisciplinary Archaeology at USC. She is interested in the cultural systems, thoughts, and stories of the (near & distant) past, especially in the ways they inform and enrich our present. In the future, Michelle would like to pursue nonfiction writing on topics involving science, history and social commentary.
Cacao and the Ancient Maya
Cacao seeds in a pod. Source: Wikipedia
As the class prepares to visit a cacao farm tomorrow to better acquaint ourselves with Mayan culture, a staple worth some serious discussion is the cacao seed. That being said, disregard any impulsive image of the ancient Maya as living in a chocolate-filled paradise a la Willy Wonka’s fantastical chocolate factory. But all the same, to say that the ancient Maya were a society of chocoholics may not be so far from the truth. In the words of archeologist Keith Prufer, the ancient Maya regarded cacao as “an intimate ritual product implicated in areas of social identity and reproduction that transcend economic and political status” (Prufer & Hurst 2007).
As Prufer explains in his article published in association with the Hershey Food Technical Center, entitled “Chocolate in the Underworld Space of Death,” the cacao seed held a diverse set of connotations for the Maya. On one hand, cacao was an integral instrument in transitioning the individual from one stage of life to the next (birth, initiation, marriage, etc.). But at the same time, archeologists also believe that cacao acted as a sort of Mayan currency, as a luxury beverage ingredient for societal elites, and as an occupational tool which Mayan shamans utilized when performing rituals (Prufer & Hurst 2007). All in all, cacao took a prominent but complex position in Mayan society, making it a topic worth close analysis as the class looks toward encountering descendants of the very people who held it in such esteem.
Prufer’s paper proves a particularly interesting discussion of cacao as it explains the seed’s function facilitating the Mayan relationship with the underground realm of the divine. As the Maya saw it, human life followed a cyclical construction, rising from the land at birth and returning to the land at death. In turn, cacao was seen as mediating human interaction with the earth by being present both at birth and at death (Prufer & Hurst 2007). However, it is the latter event which archeologists like Prufer are most concerned with as the cacao seeds included in cave burials can preserve until modern discovery, like those in the Bats’ub Cave of southwestern Belize. As Prufer explains, this cacao may have been included in burials as a type of sustenance for the deceased’s journey, or perhaps as a form of entry payment to the afterlife (Prufer & Hurst 2007). Either way, cacao facilitated the connection between the mortal surface world and the divine underground realm, and in this way the Maya regarded the seed as necessary for a proper life cycle.
Still, I find it most interesting that the reason why the cacao seed of all objects received such elevated status from the Maya remains a mystery to researchers. It would seem that the Maya could have assigned such sanctity to other natural objects that seemed to connect the mortal surface world with the divine underworld. Consider water, a natural resource following a cycle much like the Mayan human lifecycle. In the same way that the Maya believed humans to emerge from and then return to the ground, so did water come up to the Earth’s surface in Mayan cenotes and soak into the ground as rainfall. As such, water effectively exemplifies that strong parallels can be drawn between the Mayan worldview and other natural items besides cacao, leaving one to speculate which of the seed’s qualities led to its characterization as an elite good.
As it were, other scholarly analyses provide a wealth of claims as to why cacao rather than another natural resource like water may have developed into a Mayan cultural staple. For one, cacao pulp could be fermented into a chocolate drink called chicha, a status good reserved for Mayan elites given its decadence and for shamans because of its mind-altering ability. Lavish chocolate foods were also prepared by elites using cacao, further associating luxurious and sacred connotations with the seed (Henderson 2007). Cacao had its appeals even from a pragmatic perspective, for it is easily transported and preserved. Granted, these scholarly claims remain somewhat speculative, but they nonetheless beginto illuminate why cacao may have first come to maintain elevated status among the Maya.
But in closing, perhaps our own trip to the Mayan homeland will serve to temporally contextualize these mysteries surrounding the cacao. That is, while a great deal of the seed’s original ancient significance may be lost, the relationship between the Maya and cacao has continued to evolve over the millennia. In fact, Prufer goes on to track some of this evolution in his discussion of extant documentary sources from the years following European settlement of the Yucatán (Prufer & Hurst 2007). As such, perhaps observing the modern role of cacao in the lives of Mayan descendants will help further complete our understanding of the dynamic and long-standing relationship between seed and man. And if it so happens along the way I have to taste some cacao first-hand, then I suppose I will have no choice but to partake in the name of scholarship.
Henderson JS, Joyce RA, Hall GR, Hurst WJ, & McGovern PE (2007) Chemical and archaeological evidencefor the first cacao beverage. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 48:18937-18940.
Prufer K, & Hurst WJ (2007) Chocolate in the underworld space of death: Cacao seeds from an early Classic mortuary cave. Ethnohistory, 54:273–301.
Sean Drake is a sophomore from Cincinnati, Ohio. As a double-major in Classics and Environmental Studies, his main interest is the intersection of ancient civilizations and the environment. As a result, he is interested in the link between the native Maya and their homeland. On the side, Sean loves to scuba dive as well as run as captain on the USC Marathon Team. He hopes to one day pursue a career in coastal management.
May 18, 2012
Underground Evidence for Maya Collapse
The Maya, a Mesoamerican society considered the most advanced Native American civilization of its time, began a complex development around 2000 B.C. Divided into two main periods, Preclassic and Classic, the Mayans underwent a relatively abrupt collapse between 750-900 A.D., known as the Terminal Classic. The cause of rapid decline of such an intricately developed people has since been a topic of interest. One theory in particular is growing increasingly irrefutable: climate change. In 2007, James W. Webster et al., used stalagmite evidence from the Macal Chasm, a cave in Belize, to demonstrate that climate change, specifically drought, may have played an integral role in the Maya demise.
Stalagmite formation in Yok Balum cave, Belize. Photo by Dan Killam.
Stalagmites are formations resultant from the dripping of mineralized solutions into caves through the overlying soil and subsequent deposit of calcium carbonate. Because of the CO2 present in the atmosphere, rainwater is naturally acidic, and thus dissolves calcium carbonate when percolating through calcium carbonate rich soils. Upon entering a cave, water’s concentration of calcium carbonate is so high that some precipitates out when the water drips through the cave, forming stalagmites. Webster et al. used several proxy factors from stalagmites to indicate the climate in Belize during which the stalagmite sample was formed, including reflectance, color, and luminescence of the sample, as well as carbon and oxygen isotopic records.
Luminescence “is produced by organic acids and so is related to productivity in the soil and vegetation cover above the cave [ . . . ] as a proxy for availability of moisture” (Webster et al. 9). The particular sample from the Macal Chasm demonstrates long periods of higher luminescence—moisture—with interjecting periods of lower luminescence—drought. Color has a strong correlation with luminescence. Browner color indicates the accumulation of dust on the stalagmite, implying that there was not enough water in the cave to keep the formations free of dust (9). Dryer climates, as indicated by the color measurements, occurred during the same time periods as lower luminescence, indicating drought. Reflectance also correlates to the two aforementioned values, but is a less dependable indicator because calcium carbonate in general does not reflect much light. Combined, however, the three measurements consistently agree on times of more moisture and times of less moisture, and overall suggest several periods of drought that the Maya faced.
Another important variable measured from the stalagmites are the oxygen and carbon isotopic records, which point to different climate indicators. Oxygen isotopic records signify the amount of rainfall at the time of the stalagmite formation. Oxygen has two common isotopes, oxygen-16 and oxygen-18, the latter being heavier. The stalagmite sample used by Webster et al. was very near the entrance of the cave, meaning a higher likelihood of exposure to outside climate conditions. Because of its lower weight, oxygen-16 is more readily evaporated from the stalagmite than oxygen-18, which leaves behind more oxygen-18 and thus a higher value of the oxygen isotope ratio. More evaporation would occur from the stalagmite in drier climates, so a higher isotopic ratio value suggests less rainfall. The carbon isotopic record, on the other hand, indicates the amount of vegetation present over the cave. Three common isotopes of carbon are carbon-12, carbon-13, and carbon-14, with their weights increasing respectively. Vegetation prefers to use the lightest of the three isotopes because capturing it requires the least amount of energy; therefore, a cave covered with large amounts of vegetation, indicative of a generally wetter climate, would have a lower carbon isotopic ratio. Because both isotope ratios are ultimately suggestive of rainfall levels, they are strongly correlated. The Webster et al. data records lower values (wetter climates) and higher values (drier climates) of each isotope ratio during the same time periods. The matching records greatly increase the dependability of the data.
Data from Webster et al comparing several stalagmite-based datasets during the main periods of Maya civilization.
The Webster et al. data for all five of the proxies measured, shown above, demonstrates remarkable levels of agreement for periods of wet and dry climates. Webster et al. identifies 4 significant periods of drought from the data. The first, occurring around 141 A.D., corresponds to the Preclassic Abandonment, which is archaeologically recorded as a cessation of construction in several major Maya locations (2). The next evident drought comes around 517 A.D., which marks the beginning of a period described as the Maya Hiatus, archaeologically recognized as a period with a decrease in the amount of dedication of monuments. The third drought comes as a series at the peak of the Maya Classic Period, when it is thought that the Maya were at their highest population, and thus, extremely dependent on water for agriculture and consequently vulnerable to drought. The droughts ranged from 780-1139 A.D., with the Maya civilization thought to be completely collapsed around 910 A.D. The fourth and final significant drought identified by Webster et al. around 1472 A.D. comes after the Maya Terminal Classic, but is significant for another reason: it was recorded in Maya Books (14). The confirmation of this portion of the data amplifies the reliability of the rest of the data projected on the Maya Preclassic and Classic periods.
While no theory on the Maya collapse is unquestionably conclusive, strong evidence is building that climate change in the form of drought imposed a significant burden on the civilization, given their degree of dependence on rainfall. Though the collapse of the Mayan society was likely a combination of multiple factors, and perhaps a snowball effect of all the factors combined, it is becoming progressively clearer that climate change as a cause should not be dismissed.
Source:
Webster, James W., George A. Brook, L. Bruce Railsback, Hai Cheng, R. Lawrence Edwards, Clark Alexander, and Philip P. Reeder. “Stalagmite Evidence from Belize Indicating Significant Droughts at the Time of Preclassic Abandonment, the Maya Hiatus, and the Classic Maya Collapse.”Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology 250.1-4 (2007): 1-17. Print.
Sydney MacEwen, an LA native, is an upcoming Junior pursuing a BS in Environmental Studies and a minor in Geological Hazards. This is her first trip to Belize. She’s particularly interested in climate change and related policy. She hopes to pursue a Master of Arts in Environmental Studies following her undergraduate education.