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Life as an Aztec

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Greetings Reader,



I am Hutamalu, a citizen of the once almighty Aztec empire. I love all my Aztec friends except for Totonacs and Tlaxacans, who are traitors to the Aztec empire. Just hearing their name gets me all worked up. Blood pounds in my ears if I just think about them. Also, I hate all the men with white skin. I feel even stronger hatred toward these evil newcomers. Don’t take me wrong, though. I have a strong reason behind this feeling.

It all started with a man named Cortes. After befriending the Totonac and Tlaxacans, he made his way into my city, Tenochtitlan, in 1519. At first, he seemed glorious. He was covered with silver armor, and was riding on a creature we had never seen before. Thus, we welcomed him warmly, treated him well, and he remained a guest for a year. I had suspicions about these people from the start. Every time we showed them gold, they grabbed it out of our hands and acted like monkeys.

Anyway, in 1520, he had to leave for some reason I do not know. At that time, another white-skinned man, Alvarado had been there. As a formality, we asked them to allow us to celebrate a major festival, which we would’ve celebrated no matter what.

Unexpectedly, during the festival, he surrounded the main temple. Alvarado blocked each exit with about 15 men. With 50 men, he went inside, brutally stabbed over 600 of my dear friends, and took our jewels. Luckily, I wasn’t there due to a family emergency. When I came to know of this ironic occurrence, I crumbled to the ground. I wept so much; I was wet from head to toe.

When nothing could get worse, Cortes came back, his army made of huge numbers of the Aztec traitors, and some white-skinned people. We stopped at nothing, and rebelled against them. They killed our men, stole our gold, and fooled us all. Now, we would play our power. Cortes and his men stole lots of our gold, while the traitors were attacking us. Of course, though; greed always has a price. Lots of their men drowned because of the weight of the gold; their filthy hearts deserve it. This event was like light in the dark, and it was the only happy moment. At that time, we didn’t know if they’d come back. Of course, I knew their desire for gold would bring them right back.

As I guessed, they came back in December 1520, but what cowards! After an unknown illness weakened and killed a majority of us, Cortes came and attacked. Obviously, he succeeded. What was worse, he took the place down stone by stone, and built another city. It was only by god’s grace that I, and a few others, survived. I have pretended and will pretend for the rest of my life that I’m a Totonac.

In reality, though, I hate those white-skinned invaders even more than the Aztec traitors. They repaid our gifts with greed. They repaid our respect with brutal murder. Not on European came to our aid. Instead, the invaders took over our land, though you can’t own land, and destroyed it. Every single rule of good character traits my family told stories about were broken by the white-skinned men.

I have nothing more to say. If I write any longer, I may be caught by the Totonac traitors. Farewell reader! I hope you don’t face the same fate as my friends, family, and I faced.

Sincerely,
Hutamalu, a former Tenochtitlan resident and a former citizen of the Aztec Empire





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