PSYCHIC
“Climbing Mexican Pyramids” continued from page 6
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ROLFING
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ADVISOR
At five a.m. we pulled in to a chilly, still dark Mexico City and I was the first one out of the bus. When the unknowing attendants opened the luggage doors, the puppy, which had managed to escape from her taped-up box, was walking around and had pooped on other people’s luggage. Shaken but not stirred, and just like a refreshed puppy awoken from a long nap, she was elated to see me and forgot about the experience very quickly. We slept for two hours in the Mexico City bus station, until the first buses left for Teotihuacán at 7:30 am (again I had to sneak her on that short bus ride, but this time we were successful and no one saw her). Then finally my new baby and I walked through the gates of the pyramid site, through the museum, and past the array of tourist paraphernalia. Then, from a distance, the temples appeared! They were ominous galactic beehives, out-of-this-world cosmic mountains that sent shockwaves through me and took my breath away upon first sight. Incredible. I unzipped my backpack at my chest, so that the puppy could put her head out to see and breathe, but she became excited and started moving around abruptly. “Stay in there,” I whispered. But she wouldn’t keep still. When we reached the first pyramid, La Pirámide del Sol, my heartbeat began to pulse rapidly. This was my moment. With exhilaration, my right foot met the first ancient step. Centuries after Teotihuacán was abandoned by its original builders, the awestruck Aztecs utilized the city for their religious ceremonies. From there, they made human sacrifices to the Gods by offering the hearts of their captives. They believed that Teotihuacán had been built by gods. As we ascended the pyramid, the puppy couldn’t resist the urge to try and jump out of the backpack, so all of a sudden it became really difficult to climb. People started looking over at the spectacle. “Stop, please stop,” I implored. I was annoyed. My endeavor at soul liberation turned into a sloppy attempt to try to secure a whiny, lost dog. I had to make sure she didn’t go plunging down the mountain—to her death. There she was, haphazardly falling out onto the monolithic steps, hurting her tender little bones. She was confused and yelping, causing everyone around us to wonder what the heck I was doing there with a dog. It seemed like it took a lifetime to get up to the top, but when we finally did, we both collapsed down and surrendered to the fresh air that washes upwards from the Valley of Mexico. Atop the colossal, magnificent structure, adorned in a network of ancient designs and hieroglyphs, the puppy and I froze. She had a purple aura. She had no idea that our destinies had become intertwined and we were bound together on the journey. On top of the world, we soaked up the rays of the Mexican sun. As I imagined the ancestral practices of ancient people, she pawed lethargically at the mystical monarch butterflies (mariposas) that swarmed over her head. They were drawn to her like little faeries. Cascading sunlight dripped down onto us and I gazed across the valley in disbelief at what I was seeing and feeling. That night, the puppy and I hit the road together. In the end it was complicated traveling with her, but she was my new friend and I couldn’t just leave her. I named her Mariposa, after the butterflies. Daphne can be found either sitting in a tree, laughing hysterically, dancing wildly in a drum circle, wandering through gritty and beautiful urban areas at night, or sitting at her computer writing this. Read her blog about homeless youth in Brazil at www. sublimeadventures.blogspot.com
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