Chaac Calls the Rain
During a recent trip to the Mayan ruins of Belize, Guatemala, and Mexico, we began to explore the world of Chaac, the Mayan god of rain. Belize was especially important, in part because we had an amazing guide — Luis Godoy, a Mayan whose knowledge and experience goes beyond most archaeologists. He made the ancient things real, from the temples to the underworld of a cave, and blended practical expertise with a wealth of personal experience. He is more than just a tour guide.
While caching was not my primary focus, one geocache asked what would “Chaac”say about the way that rain has turned into acids that threaten the monuments. It deserved a response even if I cannot speak for him.. The water that sustains life has been dissolving the heritage of not only the Maya, but the entire world.
The Maya might said that water was never a mere commodity; it is a sacred life force. At the center of this relationship stands Chaac, he is not just a figure of myth or an almost forgotten rain god., but a vital entity whose influence spans millennia.
During the height of the Maya period, survival depended entirely on seasonal rainfall. Unlike other civilizations nestled near great rivers, many Maya cities relied on chultunes (underground cisterns) to capture rain. They built reservoirs and marked the seasons to plants crops, better than our calendars today.
Chaac was the provider who struck the clouds with his jade axe to release the rain. He was enshrined into the very fabric of their cities, with architecture featuring long, hooked noses, a lightning bolt, stacked atop one another to ensure the god’s watchful eye.
He stood within the four directions to encompass the entire world, reinforcing the idea that rain was a universal, omnipresent necessity. Even today, the Maya may go to the ancient ceremonial sites or pray to Chaac to sustain them within a Catholic faith.
Chaac remains important, not only a symbol of cultural identity but of a deep environmental stewardship. Honoring Chaac is a way of maintaining a balanced relationship with the earth. I will always be an outsider, a mere tourist. It seems cheeky to try to answer what Chaac might say but when has that stopped me?[1]A few paragraphs and a geocaching log are not meant to be anything more than a brief note of some impressions. Any mistakes are mine alone.
My Log
During our trip we saw many altars to Chaac in the countries we visited. He was carved into the very breath of the walls, his stone eyes wide. He still receives visitors from the Mayans. For us, he came to be familiar, almost a guide, leading us through the worlds.
He was there to bring the rain, yet humans fell from him, from the old ways. Our climate began to change. The rain comes down as acid now, eating the history right off the walls. The air feels weary, like it’s seen too much, and even the rivers hesitate.
Chaac was not a simple god to follow. He was hungry and filled with the passion of lightning and thunder. He wanted something that cost. Sometimes, even a life might be required, in exchange for the clouds.
However, in a place where the ancient monuments still stand, what happens when people no longer believe, no longer come with offerings? We watched young people collecting another photo and quickly moving on. They struck a pose against the ruins, but they do not feel the weight of the stone. They have no inkling of Chaac, no sense of the covenant with the gods that sustained life. They traded their history for a profile.
Chaac. A soul thirsts, too. A soul needs the rain to come. If I had lived in a different culture I might have chosen to follow him, but the sacrifice seems great. I have always been light on sacrifice and have given my soul to other devotions.
I can only watch from the distance, bearing witness to the dissolving stone. There must be a different way of living. Ultimately, though, Chaac reclaims his own. Even stone cannot overcome water.
02/21/2026
Notes
| ↑1 | A few paragraphs and a geocaching log are not meant to be anything more than a brief note of some impressions. Any mistakes are mine alone. |
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