If you stood in the middle of the Grand Canyon and shouted ‘Hello’, you would hear the original waveform reflected back to you. There would be a slight delay, due to the distance the waveform had to travel, but your words and voice, would be clearly recognisable.
If you shouted ‘hello’ and a different word came back, in a voice that was clearly not your own, it would understandably freak you out. Any natural surface, even one as irregular as a rock face, will not substantively alter the shape of a waveform. The rock acts more like a tennis racket, hitting the original ball back to the server. To change the ‘ball’ in mid flight, requires a degree of knowledge about waveform geometry that doesn’t exist today.
The Mayans accomplished the transformation of sound using only the embedded energy in the original waveform. For them to have accomplished such an incredible feat, must have known the waveform geometry, of a ‘clap’. And the precise shape of the internal chamber and aperture which would convert the energy into the song of the Quetzal.
And they called these people ‘savages’.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
The Quetzal was the sacred bird of the ancient Mayas and Aztecs. The name is derived from the word quetzal, meaning "precious" or "sacred”. The quetzal is also associated with the feathered serpent creator god Quetzalcoatl and seen as a symbol for goodness and light. The bird was a symbol of freedom and wealth.
The legend of Quetzal has parallels with the story of Cain and Abel. The legend says that the day Quetzal was born, a wise man placed a jade and obsidian necklace over his head and proclaimed, “Your destiny has been decided, Quetzal. You will live forever.”
Chiruma (the younger brother of the chief) hoped that they would never have a son as he wanted to be the next leader. The only way Chiruma could be chief is if he killed Quetzal. During battle Chiruma observed that arrows swerved past Quetzal, he assumed that maybe his necklace had some special powers.
That night, while Quetzal was sleeping, Chiruma stole the necklace and wore it himself. The following day when Quetzal was walking in the forest, Chiruma shot his nephew straight through the heart with an arrow. Chiruma was about to walk away when Quetzal’s chest began to throb. A bird emerged from out of his body and flew up onto a branch of a ceiba tree. The bird was the size of a parakeet with iridescent emerald feathers, a small yellow beak and a three foot tail with shimmering blue feathers. The bird flew down, took the necklace from Chiruma and flew up into the tree. As Chiruma looked up in astonishment, a jaguar leapt up and killed him with one bite.
The ‘call’ of the Quetzal bird is very distinctive. The Mayans immortalised the song of the Quetzal in a way that defies all explanation. If you stand in front of the pyramid at Chichen Itza and clap your hands, the echo will sound exactly like the ‘call’ of a Quetzal.
How was it possible for a so called ‘primitive’ people to build a pyramid out of stone, knowing (in advance) that it would transmute the sound of a clap, into the song of a Quetzal. The acoustic engineers who built Chichen had an understanding of waveform geometry that was so far advanced compared to today, that it beggars belief.