It’s feria time, and the muddy streets of Momostenango, Guatemala are buzzing with western anthropologists and scholars. They’ve come to observe the yearly tradition that’s made the town famous: a costume theatre rich with Spanish imagery, but steeped in an even older, indigenous magic. The wooden masks of the Dance of the Conquest, or the ancient order of acrobats known as the Monkeys and Tigers conceal a Mayan mythology strong enough, and adaptable enough, to endure five hundred years of foreign domination. But across the square, a new dance craze is proving more popular with the locals. In the Disfraz, modern Mayans transform themselves into horror movie monsters, Japanese video game avatars, former dictators and American politicians. This is not considered a ‘folkloric’ dance. It’s not likely to show up on a postcard. In some villages, it’s even been banned for the way it frightens tourists. So what does it mean that fiberglass masks of Barack Obama and Xena: Warrior Princess have been blessed by Mayan priests?
“We don’t know who discovered water,” said media theorist Marshall McLuhan, “but we’re pretty sure it wasn’t the fish.” In a time when advertising and pop culture are so omnipresent we barely notice them, Gods and Kings offers western audiences a look at our own media-saturated existence through the eyes of those who are actively discovering it. As the youth of Momostenango take the icons of western consumer culture out of context and into the streets, they illuminate a world of magic and ritual beneath the surface of modern life. At the same time they demonstrate the K’iche Maya’s unique ability to “mayanize” their would-be conquerors, whether they come in the form of armed Conquistadors or cuddly Disney cartoon characters.