Magic atop the Mexican Pyramids of Teotihuacan

by Bree Kullman (Canada)

I didn't expect to find Mexico

Arriving at the steps of the Pyramid of the Sun, I allowed my gaze to flow up the stone staircase. I imagined the priests, rulers, and warriors who had stood here over the last 2000 years. For me, it was a point of historical interest on a trip through Mexico. For those of the past, it was a point where they would ascend to either take a life or have their life taken as human sacrifice. As is my custom when climbing mountains, I closed my eyes and silently asked permission to ascend the pyramid’s flanks. Taking my first step, I honoured that for those before me, this may have marked their last. Standing 66m tall and roughly 230m wide, the Pyramid of the Sun is one of the largest ancient structures in Mesoamerica. I marvelled at the hefty stone blocks, carved and put in place by human means. To the east, I could see apartment towers under construction that would take mere months to complete. The juxtaposition between Mexico City and the ancient pyramids of Teotihuacan was disorienting. I breathed in the fragility of it all. Meters from the top, I encountered a bottleneck of visitors as the staircase gave way to the summit. Amongst the throng, my attention was drawn to the stillness of a handsome middle-aged man. He was whispering rhythmically, eyes closed, head bowed. I moved closer to listen. He was speaking Spanish, and a young woman knelt below him. "Gracias por el aire, por el viento, por el sol…" He was offering gratitude to the natural elements surrounding us. I had encountered shamans before, and understood I had stumbled into a ceremony. The man’s eyes shot open and his gaze met mine. His intensity jolted me. Embarrassed to have intruded on something not meant for me, I mouthed gracias and quickly moved down the pyramid. At the base, I reconvened with my friend Katelyn and we strolled towards the Pyramid of the Moon. I was feeling lively after my encounter with the mystical. We crossed a plaza, and I saw a man flowing through a series of movements while his friend filmed him. “Tai Chi?” I asked. “Yes!” he responded excitedly. I demonstrate my recently acquired Karate routine, and he and I exchanged lessons while our friends laughed at the impromptu showcase. I pivoted around to execute a karate chop and froze. The shaman stood three feet away. He had found me. “Do you study higher consciousness?” he asked. His intensity was warm but still rattled me. I fumbled for words “Yes, ah...well my friend back home, he practices shamanism, so I know what you were saying.” A soft smile flickered across his face. “Come, and bring your friend.” We followed the shaman and his student to the Pyramid of the Moon. Over the next two hours, Guillermo led us through a spiritual ceremony that he orated in Narwhal (the indigenous language of Teotihuacan) and Spanish, pausing as I translated for my friend. Our hearts tilted upwards to the sun, he spoke to the four directions, to the spirits of the land, to the ancestors who had come before us. He spoke of peace and connectedness. He spoke of the thing that every human —past and present— hopes for: unconditional love. Arms to the sky with the sun warming my face, I breathed in the surreal nature of what we had been swept into. I was grateful. After the ceremony, we descended the pyramid and left Teotihuacan. On the walk out, Guillermo transformed from shaman to average joe. We chatted about our families, the dance lessons he was taking, and his wife’s excellent culinary skills. We hopped on a public bus that took us from ancient city to modern. Our stop came, and my friend and I said goodbye to Guillermo and his student. When I think of that day, I think of magic—that sense of aliveness that attracts new friends, opportunities, the generosity of strangers. Travel is one way we unlock this magic. That day in Teotihuacan, I had primed my personal magic by broadening my perspective across cultures and centuries. It just so happened that on that day my magic attracted, well, magic.