The Mesoamerican Long Count calendar is a non-repeating base-20 and base-18 calendar used by several pre-Columbian Mesoamerican cultures, most notably the Maya. For this reason, it is often known as the Maya Long Count calendar. Using a modified vigesimal tally, the Long Count calendar identifies a day by counting the number of days passed since a mythical creation date that corresponds to August 11, 3114 BCE in the proleptic Gregorian calendar. The Long Count calendar was widely used on monuments.

Background

The two most widely used calendars in pre-Columbian Mesoamerica were the 260-day Tzolkʼin and the 365-day Haabʼ. The equivalent Aztec calendars are known in Nahuatl as the Tonalpohualli and Xiuhpohualli.

The combination of a Haabʼ and a Tzolkʼin date identifies a day in a combination which does not occur again for 18,980 days (52 Haabʼ cycles of 365 days equals 73 Tzolkʼin cycles of 260 days, approximately 52 years), a period known as the Calendar Round. To identify days over periods longer than this, Mesoamericans used the Long Count calendar.

The Long Count calendar is divided into five distinct units:

  • one day - kin
  • 20 days - uinal
  • 360 days - tun
  • 7,200 days - katun
  • 144,000 days - baktun

Mesoamerican numerals

Long Count dates are written with Mesoamerican numerals, as shown on this table. A dot represents 1 while a bar equals 5. The shell glyph was used to represent the zero concept. The Long Count calendar required the use of zero as a place-holder and presents one of the earliest uses of the zero concept in history.

The Mesoamerican Calendar - Ancient Americas 84

The Mayan Calendar countdown

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  • AnarchaPrincess [she/her]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    Camino de Santiago Quest 2023: Day 26

    At the last minute, the final bell, the fucking buzzer…740km into a 800km journey…YA GIRL GOT ASKED OUT BY A CUTE GUY.

    (but you have to read on for details)

    Today was the longest day I’ll have on this entire trip. In all, I did essentially 50 kilometers. It began at 2:30 when I woke up along with the two others in my hostel to begin a loooong night hike, which we all voluntarily undertook alone.

    I had always wanted to believe that night hiking is the same as day hiking only darker. THIS IS NOT TRUE. It’s a completely different world and so much spookier. There were dogs yowling in the distance, bats fluttering directly above my head, and all the churches and cemeteries of passing villages took on terrifying features en silhouette.

    At one point I stopped at the edge of a town upon hearing a loud, fast-moving rustling sound in the bushes. It was unmistakably an animal, and one moving directly toward me. I locked up. Dogs in a nearby yard started shrieking. The sound got louder and closer. I could see the plants shaking.

    Two glowing eyes emerged from the vegetation. They were like cat eyes but much higher off the ground, and I knew well that this was not cat behavior. My mind turned to the worst of all scenarios: a lynx or some other large wildcat. I could already imagine the teeth gnashing into my legs. I was fucking donzeo.

    The creature leaped from the bushes and ran straight toward me. I could see the thing at last, as fat as a pig and as large as a dog. It was a FUCKING GODDAMN BADGER. I’d never seen one before! I turned instinctively to black bear protocol and started banging my trekking poles together while screaming FUCK OFF BADGER GET OUT OF HERE. The badger turned and ran. I walked on and polished off a good 20km before sunrise. Yeah, I’m pretty much the world’s best hiker.

    Not much to report for the middle of the day. Once the sun was up I ran headfirst into the wall of weekend warriors section hiking the final 100km of the Camino for their certificate. There were so many day packs and Jansports and very clean, situationally inappropriate shoes. Gross. Why can’t everyone be insane like me and walk more than a marathon in a single day?

    I reached tonight’s hostel and started running camp chores. A cute guy my age from Belgium walked in and claimed the bunk bed underneath mine. I was immediately interested. He’s super handsome and just recently finished med school, much as I recently finished PhD school.

    We had our communal pilgrim dinner and I sat across the table from him. He was hilarious and super worldly. I thought I came across as a drunk and sloppy mess with bad hair so I’d already discounted any chance at making things happen. Besides, it’s nuts to try to meet someone this late into the story, right? I was supposed to find my true love on the first day of walking, then we’d discover our feelings over 700 kilometers of romance and get married and I’d move to Europe and everything would be amazing. That’s the kind of canned Camino experience I was chasing after all, either that or the best friend, the found family, the people you share traumas with, etc etc. That’s why I was so upset the other day I guess, because it wasn’t that clean. Because I came here to experience a movie and it never plays out that way. Real people aren’t easy.

    Belgium said something over dinner that really stuck out to me though. He was describing his own found family, a gang so tight they even created their own fake stamp to sketch out in each other’s credencials. Yet even his group had splintered off and faded. He said that the Camino is like aging. You start young and naive and excited and make friends easy. Then you go your separate ways, discover your own passions and goals, turn toward new pursuits. Your buddy meets a girl and they run off together. You slow down to drink and party all day at the expense of your responsibilities. Someone else calls it quits. By the end you’re all completely different people. Nothing ends the way it begins, but all of it is important. It’s change. It’s life.

    Later on I made a joke about how I wish I’d known about a particularly silly Camino tradition. Women are supposed to leave their underwear in a basket back in Basque Country in hopes that it will help them meet a man. I said now it was too late for anything, even a hookup.

    He said it’s never too late as long as you’re still living. Dude reached DEEP for courage and shot his shot. Respect.

    “Look, there’s like two days left. You’re really beautiful and charming. Do you want to walk together and see what happens?”

    I said yes. Waking him up at 4am tomorrow. We’re heading to Santiago. Night hiking is a lot less scary when there’s two of you.

    meow-coffee

  • FakeNewsForDogs [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    Sorry but the “sheltered Reddit liberals” thread is apparently the new permanent megathread. It’s growth will soon become exponential and it will never leave the top of the page, no matter how you sort, growing ever larger until it autonomously changes the url of this website to “shelteredredditliberals.biz,” acquires controlling stakes in all social media sites, and self replicates until it finally bursts forth into the real world to solve climate change by absorbing the sun itself.

  • Cigarette_comedian [he/him]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    This year I will be studying English.

    Me when reading book: wojak-nooo “Oh it’s so boring to read! I wish I was doing literally anything else!”

    Me when reading the 7497134 comment long thread dunking on one insular lib: so-true “Damn, I just can’t stop reading this!”

  • h3doublehockeysticks [she/her]@hexbear.net
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    1 year ago

    Hey remember when Bill Clinton started a program to drain the plasma of inmates in Arkansas and sell it, thereby having the inmates cover part of the cost of their own incarceration, and it was done so sloppily it gave a bunch of people HIV.