On top of a ruined pyramid a short distance away stood a group of seven men and three women, dressed in modern clothing but wearing tall feather headdresses that splayed out above their heads like the fanned tails of peacocks. They were grouped in a loose half-circle around a statue—a carved humanoid figure that reclined on its back, balancing a stone bowl on its belly. One of the men—the one whose voice could be heard above the rest—held something above the statue. His back was to us, however, and I couldn’t see what it was. A long cape, stitched together from thousands of feathers, covered his back and shoulders.