TEMPLE B: Diary of Discovery

The tribe, in their migrations, could notlook up into the sky and could not settlepermanently beneath it. Then residencewas conceived.... Peace was realizedwhen labors were divided. Star-gazersbegan to realize that the heavens could berelied upon ... and the temple became thehouse of the heavens brought down toearth. The temple was the representative ofthe heavens.... A new concept of the universe was this union of heaven and earth....And instead of writing on bodies, as in thetribe, men wrote on stone. —Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy (classroom notes, March 15, 1950)

May 6, 1973: Lurching in a microbus along an overgrown logging trail in the most remote part of the Yucatan jungle. We are 250 miles south and east of Merida, about 40 miles north of the Guatemalan border, not far from the modern village of Xpuhil (say "spoo-heel"). Aboard are Suzanne and I, five Maya Indian woodsmen equipped with machetes and a rifle or two, Andrea Seuffert from the Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City, and Gillett Griffin, who is Curator of Pre-Columbian Art at Princeton and an intrepid explorer of the little-known civilizations that rose to greatness in the Americas before Columbus.

In art and architecture, in mathematics and astronomy, foremost among these early American civilizations was the Maya, and right now, on this logging trail, knocking down small trees with our bus (thwack, thwack), we are setting out on our fourth probe into this wilderness in search of one of the most beautiful of Maya temples. Temple B of Rio Bee was built some 1.200 years ago, abandoned by 900 A.D., shrouded in jungle oblivion for over 1,000 years, then discovered and photographed in 1912, then lost again. A strange story.

We crackle through the bush and lurch up the steep side of a caved-in platform. "Mas rapido," they shout from the back - "Faster." What the men really want is more power from the vehicle. and the microbus is giving all it that it has. Always before we had used a Jeep to penetrate this trail - never a two-wheel drive, and carrying nine people. I know we will be on foot before another kilometer is made. On our left now is a much-ruined Pyramid about 30 meters high. There is much evidence of the anient Maya here, but everything is in ruins. I wonder, after all this, what condition Temple B will be in, if we find it. Judging from the old photographs, Temple B should be a building of lingular beauty, and remarkably intact.

I remember the wonder Suzanne and I felt when we looked at the model of Temple Bin the American Museum of Natural history in New York - clearly a masterpiece of ancient architecture, and yet it was, in fact, lost.

Our bus is a baking oven. We must keep the windows closed to protect against snapping twigs and spines loaded with biting ants. I think of Raymond Merwin, a Harvard graduate student in 1912, and Clarence Hay. They discovered Temple B after an ordeal of many weeks - walking with mules, or when they were sick or too tired, riding the mules with wooden yokes for saddles. And they made it out again with camera and glass negatives intact.

Because of the photographs, Temple B was recognized as a treasure, recognized in numerous books and articles as one of the finest of all Maya buildings. When he became convinced that Temple B would never be found again, Clarence Hay supervised the making of models which can be seen today in many museums. That's how our quest started - seeing that model, with Gillett telling us, "You know, that building is lost - no one has seen it for more than 60 years."

Steering around logs and fox-holes, there is not much time for reflection during this hazardous trip we know so well. We have been down this road many times before and have seen many Maya structures. Most are in ruins. None of them was the legendary Temple B, truly a "house of the heavens brought down to earth." But where? For 61 years, explorers have searched for it in vain.

Every clearing provides brief respite, and I remember that Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy died just nine weeks ago. He was the outstanding teacher of my Dartmouth experience, and I learned something from Eugen about how a tribe becomes a civilized society. When Eugen died, we were in Gainesville, consulting and showing films at the University of Florida. Suzanne and I Were staying with good friends, Harold and Jean Stahmer. Hal and I were Dartmouth roommates and had shared many of Eugen's lectures. Through his writing, particularly the book. Speak ThatI May See Thee! Stahmer has sensitively interpreted aspects of Rosenstock-Huessy's teaching. Our reunion, after many years, at the moment of Eugen's death, was a poignant coincidence Hal made connecting flights through the night to attend Eugen's funeral and returned home a day later to play for us tapes of the funeral service.

We can only be men when two or moregenerations get together and sense the flowof time - two ages living together as one,the living and the dead as one.

—Eugen Rosenstock-Huessy

(classroom notes, February 13, 1950)

Driving down the trail past Maya tombs and over ancient platforms, I remember too that Suzanne's mother, Marjorie Aaron Burrey, had died just a few weeks before Eugen. She was a nurse, brave and gentle, and set a high standard for Suzanne and me - especially Suzanne, who is crouched in a corner of this crowded microbus (her feet resting on an old single-shot rifle:

May 6, 1973: Hugh and I have made many films about mam subjects - cows, kittens, poverty, teachers, sculpture. We function as documentary film-makers, and never assumed that we were to take the role of explorers. But we very much want this temple to be found. When we looked at the impressive plaster model of Temple B in the museum, we were haunted by its legend and its beauty.

Temple B has, like Greta Garbo, become an elusive challenge and a beautiful legend. Many books on the Maya and on preColumbian architecture contain information that Rio Bee B is "lost in the jungle." And the jungle, stinging and hot, alive with singing sounds that stir the imagination, had been declared by one of Temple B's discoverers, Clarence Hay, in an article written in 1935, to be "a jealous custodian of its mysteries.

Driving further into the wilderness, we see two woodsmen with machetes, and one man leading three mules. Butterflies flash in the sunlight, and the din created by the insect sounds comes back familiarly to our ears. Our guide and master woodsman, Juan Briceño, tells us the names of flora and fauna in Spanish or in Maya. He calls the locusts "chicadin." Parrots fly in groups noisily overhead. The bush becomes denser for a while. Then the road widens as we pass a tall, lone zapote tree, striking in stately profile. Another landmark is the bare-limbed tree . which the oropendula birds have built their high, hanging nests. Here Hugh stops to film, and I record the birds. We also prepare ourselves for the bush, spraying with insect repellent and putting rubber bands around our sleeves and ankles to keep our clothing tight as a precaution against the bites of tiny ticks called "garrapatas."

We drive from Xpuhil as far as the old logging trail goes - about 30 kilometers - a little beyond the place we stopped the previous year to hack a trail with Juan to another Rio Bee tempie, Juan's own discovery. Hugh shows Juan the map he drew on graph paper after our studies of the 1912 discovery documents at the Peabody Museum at Harvard. The map in pencil indicates Hugh's theory that we should go about 300 meters straight north, and then push through the bush due east, approximately two kilometers, to the vicinity of Temple B. In that area, we will conduct a methodical search, combing our way through this tropical haystack, looking for the golden needle of Temple B.

Juan insists that we should proceed to the north 900 meters farther and then make our trek eastward according to Hugh's map. We don't argue. We have implicit faith in Juan's instincts. Rio Bee is a wilderness in which even local people have become confused and lost, and have died of thirst. But we can rely on I an Cutting with his machete, he shows us mahogany trees and medicinal leaves, one emitting cool juices when pressed - a kind of bay leaf that grows large and smells like lotion.

I have come to like the jungle, in spite of the horrendous-looking ant nests. Black, red, winged - all sizes of ants - go about their business with impressive diligence. Contemplating their processions along intricate pathways that intersect one another, Juan has the concept of a superhighway. "Supercarretera" is his word for it. We explain that we have many "super-carreteras" in our country. He is an intuitive person, sensing our fears. He shows us deer dung and tracks of wild cats, and assures us that this particular area does not have many snakes.

Gillett, Hugh and I have become sharply aware of the difficulties and the expanse of the Rio Bee jungle. We can understand why Temple B has eluded all the searchers. There is no good reason why it can't elude us, too. On three previous trips, we had seen all the Rio Bee structures known to Juan. Now we are entering a territory rarely visited by any of the local woodsmen. Juan vaguely recalls cutting through this area 16 years ago. In an endless forest, he remembers specific trees. After inspecting a badly ruined ancient structure (thankful that it is not Temple B), we turn back for the day.

May 7, 1973: This morning is partly cloudy. Will the rains come and prevent our search? Juan says with his usual certainty that the message from the wise old farmers is that rains will come this year on May 15th. He says we have no time to lose and should work at our exploration every day. Hugh is driving the microbus.

A comical sight is a perky little iguana, head held high, running across the road. I smile at Juan. He says, grinning: "Chicatita."' He has a genuine and wonderful reverence for all forms of life. We hear a bird call. He says: "Pé-a." It is a flash of blue feathers. Today I see a buff-colored butterfly. Yesterday there were lemon-yellow ones, and swarms the color of egg yolks. What a paradise for a lepidopterist! Andy and Gillett are comparing notes on the ancient Maya pantheon of gods, their different forms and different names: Ah Kinchil, the sun god; Itzamna, the skyzamna, the sky god; Chac, the rain god; Yo Kash, the maize god....

At 11:10 we start on foot into the forest following the same trail for almost 800 meters. Then we come to the turn for the ruin twin-towered structure that we saw yesterday. We decide to go straight east instead, and Juan cuts a "flecha" marker, inserting it into the wood of the tree to show our direction. Hugh stops to film a beautiful long-petaled red flower. "Tinahera," they say it is called, or "Chu," in Maya. Growing on a tree branch, it is probably a kind of parasite like the plentiful orchids. Hugh and Juan decide it is time to take a sighting from a tall zapote tree to see if there are any signs of Rio Bee towers. Immediately, José del Carmen takes off his shoes, and walks up the tree barefoot. He is soon sixty feet up - then more than a hundred feet above the ground.

The other woodsmen enjoy his feat, watching him as he walks into the treetops. They call him the "mosca," the human fly. Jose, with his good cheer, calls down from the treetop that he sees no towers but something man-made about 500 meters to the south. Juan blazes a marker to indicate a turn to the south. We head for the ancient platform, clearing a rough trail and calling to one another to keep from getting lost.

I have the impression that the population and the buildings must have been very dense here in ancient times, and yet the whole area is so heavily overgrown, and the remains of the ancient Maya so beaten down by tree roots and rains, it is hard to identify what I am walking over. I simply feel the eerie presence of structures that have fallen in. It seems to me that to find a building still standing in good condition will be a miracle.

From the platform, we see, far off on the horizon line, an odd clump of trees that could conceal a structure such as Temple B. Or it could be a mirage - an accidental clustering of trees. We decide to head for it - whatever it is - on a compass bearing of 76 degrees East-Northeast.

It is a precipitous descent from the platform into the forest. Hugh keeps checking with the compass. Juan leads according to the compass in his head, muttering when questioned as to what he has in mind. We walk and stumble. The ground dips roughly into a hollow. Then, without seeing it, we all sense that nearby is a building. Hugh tells Gillett and Juan to turn on the tape recorders that he has them wearing, with microphones clipped to their shirts.

It is as though we have been floating on the ocean in a raft, and a big liner comes suddenly near. Andy announces that she sees a wall. Juan says he doesn't see it. Then Gillett calls out, "Edificio" - a building. I feel that something is near, but through the veil of vegetation, I cannot find it. Hugh calls for the 1912 photographs to check for identifying clues. Then, Juan and Gillett are plungingahead toward a huge back wall that comes into view and Gillett is calling out exultantly, "I know it's Temple B!" Juan says, "No." For a moment, Gillett's intuition is shaken, but he insists, "It's B.B for Briceño! Caramba!" And then I see the shape of the towers. "Oh yes, the towers! It is Temple B! It's beautiful!" Hugh shouts, "We've found it! After 61 years!" We all examine the 1912 photographs of the back wall of Temple B. No doubt about it.

Thrashing through the brush, we try to get a view of the building from the front to find out what condition it is in. Because it is so heavily overgrown with vines and spindly weed-like trees, we have to inspect close-up to determine that the towers are still intact. The wooden lintels above the doorways are still in place; the interior rooms with stucco-covered walls are there. Juan does not find any signs of looting. We are now sure the building is unharmed, locked all these years in its jungle time capsule. We are awed. Suddenly Hugh says that it is time to leave. It is getting late and what more can we possibly do today after finding Temple B?

May 8, 1973: On the trail to Temple B, Hugh and I see a rare sight: a pair of long-billed toucans fly in and land on a branch. Andy says reflectively: "I knew there were things to discover but not in such a huge way!"

From now on, the clearing of Temple B progresses dramatically. The two older men, Emerinciano and Wilfrido, are unerring with their axes. Juan is supervisor, and Jose and Reynaldo do the cutting atop the building. Clinging to thetowers are extremely tough vines. Inside the building, Andy searches the stucco walls which are covered with green moss. Under the moss are ancient graffiti. She finds a drawing of a female nude, sensuous and naturalistic, with graceful proportions, that is unlikely in Maya art. Yet it is there. Andy also finds the same sketch that Raymond Merwin and Clarence Hay photographed in 1912: two men carrying a Maya lord on a litter in the shape of a serpent; in the background is a pyramid in the style of Tikal.

May 10, 1973: Every day I bring in lunch supplies. One menu our Maya crew particularly enjoys: a can of "ensalada de legumbres"; Danish frankfurters; canned butter; serrano chiles in escabeche; and plenty of bakery bread.

May 12, 1973: En route to Temple B, we see every day the oropendulas tending to their young in the hanging nests. Our life seems entirely centered around the temple, and over us hangs the threat of impending rain. We see many more butterflies today: the dominance of white butterflies according to the Maya is a sign of rain. The shy peacock-blue cheles bird perches in the bush, then disappears. We work today to widen the front approach to the building, and concentrate on filming it. The clouds are moving in. We are on the edge of the rainy season.

May 15, 1973: Along the logging trail, we see for the first time a handsome red-brown bird called by Juan, "una chocolatera." Our men are as cheerful as ever; Hugh is exhausted. They underbid that we are very tired.

Andy hands me a bunch of orchid plants which have been cut from the tower, and Jose plants them again at the front door. The clearing of Temple B is complete, but we need early-morning photography, with sunlight, of this temple which was built to face -he rising sun. Will that be possible, now that the rains, as Juan predicted, have started?

May 17 Today we are stopped because of last night's heavy rains. We drive part-way down the road, which has turned to white slime, and find the woods totally impassable. The sticky mud is about a foot deep.

May 19. We hope to beat the weather today. The road seems drier, and we stop to talk to two men who have come all the way from Placeres, walking all night. One man tells Juan that the road is drier up ahead. We make pretty good time through the mud puddles. If necessary, we are prepared to walk all the way to Temple B because we want early-morning shots of the facade. The men cheerfully agree to walk what would be a total of more than 15 miles. But happily the logging trails still are passable by car. "Arriba y adelante!" Though there are some tight spots and the car has no reserve power climbing the hills, we make our. way.

And we make the last two kilometers walking to the temple. The forest is moist and fragrant, but not muddy. We just manage to get our sunlit temple pictures because all morning the sun goes in and out. Juan said it was incredible to him to be at the temple today. Exhausted, I went into the second room on the north side of the temple, put my head on a piece of sheeting and napped for about half-an-hour. It was a room with graffiti on the walls, most of them still covered with green moss, but I could discern the outline of a human figure. Hugh woke me - the group shot!

Reynaldo has made a flagpole and holds up a piece of sheeting for a flag while we take several amusing group pictures. Emerinciano has never held a camera before, and he soberly listens to directions, peering through the viewer. Yes, he can see all of us, including the towers, but the problem is, with his big horny finger, to find the button. "Empuje," everybody says, "Push." "Empuje," we keep repeating, while he squints and reaches with his finger. Deliberately, Emerinciano finally pushes the button, and we all are breaking up with laughter. We have our last picnic with our friends, the modern Maya. Juan enjoys his favorite dish, sardines in olive oil. He hurries us away immediately after lunch, lest we are trapped by rain. And so we have no time for lingering farewells at Temple B.

There is time to think, walking on the trail, of time itself. The Maya were preoccupied by the measurement of time, and solved this problem by inventing the world's most accurate calendar. They also tried to triumph over time by creating monuments in the least perishable material: stone. Temple B is a beautiful building created without metal tools, or the wheel, or draft animals of any kind. The Maya created a building that has kept its form intact while history unfolded in so many convulsive changes - from the time of Charlemagne to the Space Age. Merwin and Hay visited in 1912, cut away the jungle mantle. Then as soon as they left, the jungle moved in to reclaim the building.

Temple B will not be lost again. May it be protected to fulfill its destiny. May it always be allowed to stay the same.

A latter-day "star-gazer" (top) suggests the words of EugenRosenstock-Huessy. Posing in front of their faithful microbethe members of the expedition team are (from left): Gillet Griffin,Juan Briceño, authors Hugh Johnston and Suzanne Johnston,Andrea Seuffert, Reynaldo Solis Domingo, José Del Carmen,Emerenciano Mercado, and Wilfrido Cardoza.

A latter-day "star-gazer" (top) suggests the words of EugenRosenstock-Huessy. Posing in front of their faithful microbethe members of the expedition team are (from left): Gillet Griffin,Juan Briceño, authors Hugh Johnston and Suzanne Johnston,Andrea Seuffert, Reynaldo Solis Domingo, José Del Carmen,Emerenciano Mercado, and Wilfrido Cardoza.

Above, the elusive objective: the twin towers of Temple B. They were created without metal tools, the wheel, or draft animals. At right, José Del Carmen climbs the "unclimbable" Rio Bec stairs.It is poSSible that Maya Priests also climbed this stairway to the heavebs. With such a feat, they could demonstrate dominion overPopulace and the forces of nature.

Above. the elusive objective: the twin towers of Temple B. They were created without metal tools, the wheel, or draft animals. At right,José Del Carmen climbs the "unclimbable" Rio Bee stairs. It is possible that Maya Priests also climbed this stairway to the heavens. with such a feat, they could demonstrate dominion overPopulace and the forces of nature.

Inside Temple B, under a layer of green moss, several remarkabledrawings are incised into the stucco walls. This female nude,which measures about two feet tall, was called The Botticelli bymembers of the expedition team because of"her splendid proportions" and the sure draftmanship of the artist. Naturalistic workof this sort is unusual in Maya art: But it is there.

As jungle-clearing operations neared completion, two enigmaticmasks appeared at the tops of the towers. "There is nothing quiteas perfect as the masks of the tribes," said Rosenstock-Huessy,"for masks are the dead speaking to the living. They are a rebirth, a discovery of the soul.... The living feel that the eyes ofthe ancestors are upon them."

Hugh Johnston '51 and Suzanne Johnston, M.A. Radcliffe '53, comprise a husband and wife film-making team based in Princeton, N.J. Specializing in documentaries, their subjects include bowhead whales and polar bears in the Arctic; "Holy Cow!," which appeared on the first "Sesame Street" program; a study of the life of a poor white child in Trenton, travel films, and modern sculpture. "Mystery of the Maya," the Johnston's hour-long documentary on the re-discovery of Temple B, will be shown nation-wide over the Public Broadcasting System on April 1.