Tibes: People, Power, and Ritual at the Center of the Cosmos

Tibes

CARIBBEAN ARCHAEOLOGY AND ETHNOHISTORY

Series Editor L. Antonio Curet

Tibes

People, Power, and Ritual at the Center of the Cosmos

Edited by

L. ANTONIO CURET AND LISA M. STRINGER

THE UNIVERSITY OF ALABAMA PRESS

Tuscaloosa

Copyright © 2010

The University of Alabama Press

Tuscaloosa, Alabama 35487-0380

All rights reserved

Manufactured in the United States of America

Typeface: Minion

∞

The paper on which this book is printed meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences-Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48-1984.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Tibes : people, power, and ritual at the center of the cosmos / edited by L. Antonio Curet and Lisa M. Stringer.

         p. cm. — (Caribbean archaeology and ethnohistory)

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN 978-0-8173-1686-0 (cloth : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0-8173-5579-1 (paper : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-0-8173-8252-0 (electronic) 1. Tibes (Ponce, P.R.)—Antiquities. 2. Indians of the West Indies—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—Antiquities. 3. Centro Ceremonial Indígena de Tibes (Tibes, Ponce, P.R.) 4. Excavations (Archaeology)—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce) 5. Indians of the West Indies—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—Rites and ceremonies. 6. Sacred space—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—History. 7. Tibes (Ponce, P.R.)—Social life and customs. 8. Landscape—Social aspects—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—History. 9. Power (Social sciences)—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—History. 10. Social classes—Puerto Rico—Tibes (Ponce)—History. I. Curet, L. Antonio, 1960–II. Stringer, Lisa M., 1966–

F1969.T53 2010

972.95'7—dc22

2009026832

To the original members of the Sociedad Guaynía de Arqueología e Historia de Ponce and the Sociedad Arqueológica del Sur-Oeste de Puerto Rico, pioneers of the archaeology of Tibes.

In Memory of José Lugo, late director of the Centro Ceremonial Indígena de Tibes.

Contents

List of Figures and Tables

Acknowledgments

1. Introduction

L. Antonio Curet and Lisa M. Stringer

2. Tibes: History and First Archaeological Work

Pedro Alvarado Zayas and L. Antonio Curet

3. The Archaeological Project of the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

L. Antonio Curet

4. Geophysical Prospection at the Ceremonial Site of Tibes, 1998–2001

Daniel Welch

5. Paleoethnobotanical Research at Tibes

Lee A. Newsom

6. Animal Use at the Tibes Ceremonial Center

Susan D. deFrance, Carla S. Hadden, Michelle J. LeFebvre, and Geoffrey DuChemin

7. Lithics from the Tibes Ceremonial Site: Analysis of the Stone Artifacts from the 1996–1999 Field Seasons

Jeffery B. Walker

8. Boulder Lithology Survey at the Tibes Ceremonial Site

Scott Rice-Snow, Melissa J. Castor, Andrew K. Castor, Jeffry D. Grigsby, Richard H. Fluegeman, and L. Antonio Curet

9. Ancient Bones Tell Stories: Osteobiography of Human Remains from Tibes

Edwin F. Crespo-Torres

10. Bone Chemistry and Paleodiet at the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

William J. Pestle

11. Tibes and the Social Landscape: Integration, Interaction, and the Community

Joshua M. Torres

12. Plazas, Bateys, and Ceremonial Centers: The Social and Cultural Context of Tibes in the Ancient History of Puerto Rico

L. Antonio Curet and Joshua M. Torres

References Cited

Contributors

Index

List of Figures and Tables

Figures

1.1. Map of Puerto Rico showing the location of the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

1.2. Topographic map of the region around the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

1.3. Topographic map of the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

2.1. Photographs of the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

3.1. Map of the Ceremonial Center of Tibes showing the location of the archaeological excavations conducted by the current project

3.2. Ceramic concentration map of Tibes

3.3. Shell concentration map of Tibes

3.4. Chronological sequence of the deposits and clusters of burials from Tibes

3.5. Sketch of excavation units

3.6. Graphic distribution of calibrated radiocarbon dates for Tibes

4.1. Geophysical survey areas during 1998

4.2. Two depictions of the 1998 North data set of electrical resistivity

4.3. Three depictions of the 1998 East data set of electrical resistivity

4.4. Two depictions of the 1998 West data set for electrical resistivity

4.5. Three depictions of the 2001 North data set

4.6. Anomaly in Structure 9

4.7. Two depictions of the 2001 South data set

4.8. Depiction of the 2001 low-pass filtered data for the whole site

5.1. Section images of leguminous wood Type 41 (Fabaceae, cf. Pictetia sp.) from Tibes Feature 03-2

6.1. Relative abundance of the molluscan MNI from Unit N276 E105, Saladoid context, and Unit OP19E, Ostionoid context

6.2. Preferred habitats of animals identified in the Tibes faunal assemblage

6.3. Invertebrate MNI frequency by preferred habitats for mollusks present in N276 E105 and OP19E

7.1. Examples of lithic artifacts

7.2. Examples of lithic artifacts

8.1. Locations of two boulders sampled from the structures at Tibes

8.2. Locations of three possible calcareous sandstone source areas, external to the Tibes site

9.1. Map of Puerto Rico showing the locations of archaeological sites where human remains have been recovered

9.2. Artificial fronto-occipital cranial deformation

10.1. Values of δ¹⁵N from Tibes humans and possible elements of protein food web

10.2. Mean relative contributions of protein sources to diets of Tibes individuals

11.1. Map of Puerto Rico showing the project area

11.2. Distribution of site types through time

11.3. Settlements and cost boundaries, Period II

11.4. Period II pottery stylistic distributions

11.5. Calibrated radiocarbon dates for Period II

11.6. Settlements and cost boundaries, Period III

11.7. Period III pottery stylistic distributions

11.8. Calibrated radiocarbon dates for Period III

11.9. Settlements and cost boundaries for Period IV

11.10. Period IV pottery stylistic distributions

Tables

2.1. General information on the ceremonial structures at the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

3.1. Radiocarbon dates obtained from four different contexts at Tibes

5.1. Primary arboreal taxa found in the southern dry limestone region of Puerto Rico

5.2. Taxonomic assignments for Tibes excavated seed assemblage

5.3. Taxonomic assignments for Tibes excavated wood charcoal assemblage

5.4. Distribution of seeds and other non-wood plant remains

5.5. Distribution of select wood taxa by provenience expressed as counts and ubiquity

5.6. Non-wood ethnobotanical uses among select taxa present in Tibes archaeobotanical assemblage

6.1. Habitats, zones, and aquatic habitats of the Ponce region, southern Puerto Rico

6.2. Analyzed contexts and cultural affiliations

6.3. Allometric regression formula and values used in this study

6.4. Species identified from the 1996–2003 excavations at the Ceremonial Center of Tibes

6.5. Summary of vertebrate and invertebrate NISP and MNI by context

6.6. Relative abundance of taxa by class and mesh size

6.7. MNI of molluscan taxa in Units N276 E105, Saladoid context, and OP19E, Ostionoid context

6.8. MNI of mollusks unique to Units N276 E105, Saladoid context, or OP19E, Ostionoid context

6.9. Bone and shell modifications exclusive of burning

6.10. Vertebrate fauna by preferred habitat

6.11. Invertebrate fauna by preferred habitat

7.1. Excavation units as originally labeled in 1998, as relabeled in 2003, and as used herein

8.1. Mix of boulder rock types in all surveyed Tibes pavements compared to that in the Portugués River

8.2. Significant differences in mix of boulder rock types among surveyed pavement areas at Tibes

8.3. Average boulder sizes for the rock types represented in the surveyed Tibes pavements

9.1. Sex/age distribution in Tibes

9.2. Stature estimation at Tibes and other archaeological sites in Puerto Rico

9.3. Pathological conditions observed at Tibes and other archaeological sites in Puerto Rico

9.4. Age-at-death distribution observed at Tibes, Punta Candelero, and Paso del Indio archaeological sites

10.1. Individuals sampled for stable isotope analysis

10.2. Quality standards and assessment of individuals interred at Tibes

10.3. Analyzed stable isotope ratios of individuals interred at Tibes, predicted isotopic values of diets, and AMS dates

10.4. Food web groupings employed for paleodietary reconstruction

10.5. First percentile, mean, and 99th percentile values for multisource mixture reconstruction of Tibes's paleodiet

11.1. Site information within the project area

Acknowledgments

The study of social change in the ancient Caribbean is a relatively young interest in the archaeology of this region, and the project that is the backbone of this volume is an example of this. Nonetheless, despite the lack of experience for conducting this kind of study, it was clear from early in the project that a joint effort among many specialists, field personnel, government officials, funding institutions, and staff members of the Centro Ceremonial Indígena de Tibes was necessary in order for it to be successful. From this perspective it has to be admitted that this volume presents only the partial fruits of these efforts, particularly the results of the work of specialists. What is not shown in these pages is all the work, assistance, and support provided by a large number of people and organizations that make up the scaffolding that is used to build solid research and educational programs. These are the unsung heroes of Tibes and to them we owe our gratitude.

We would like to first thank the people of Ponce for their warm hospitality and support during the many years the project has been working in one of the most important archaeological sites of the region. Especially, we want to recognize the late Mayor Rafael Churumba Cordero Santiago, who for many years appreciated and supported the work we were doing both at the site and in the community. His dedication to Puerto Rican culture and its archaeological heritage was always an inspiration for us. We also are indebted, first, to Ms. Maruja Candal and, second, to Ms. Vangie Rivera, consecutive Secretaries of Culture of the Autonomous Municipality of Ponce. Their tireless work and support of our project considerably facilitated our work. However, more important, they provided the project with an essential educational component. They, their staff, and the staff of the park taught us and continuously reminded us that we do not own the archaeological record; we are just its stewards. The real owners are the people of Ponce and Puerto Rico, and the least we can do as archaeologists is return to them this heritage by doing public outreach in the form of popular publications, public lectures, workshops for children, and other activities.

The staff of the Centro Ceremonial Indígena de Tibes deserves our deepest gratitude and appreciation. We do not have words to express what their warm hospitality and endless patience year after year have meant to us. Their great dedication to the park and their love toward Tibes is an inspiration to all of us. Especially, we would like to thank José Lugo, the late director of Tibes, who always gave us his unconditional support, both logistically and morally. We also would like to thank Irma Zayas Alvarado, current director; Irma Santiago Rivera, assistant director; Carmen Martínez Ajá, curator; Luis Rodríguez Gracia, former director; William Rodríguez, cashier; and the administrative assistants Carmen Lillian Pérez and Sandra Vega. We are in debt to the tour guides Carmen Martínez Alvarado, Luis Sánchez, Salvador Mas, Hector Ortíz, Milagros Robledo, Walter González, Maritza Santos, Nelson Cintrón, and Carlos Deida, who provided us with the means to reach the general public and taught us their language. They were a constant reminder that our professional duty was not only with the scientific community but also with the people of Ponce and Puerto Rico. The maintenance personnel of Tibes: Ramón Almodovar, head of maintenance; Melquiades Medina, carpenter; Reinaldo (Jalisco) Flores; Edwin Morales; Luis Martínez; and Sonia Meléndez, deserve not only our thanks for all the help they have provided us but also the credit for keeping Tibes the way it is, one of the jewels of Puerto Rico. The loyalty and love that all these people have toward Tibes is probably the most valuable resource that the park has. They are the true heroes of Tibes that make all visitors have an unforgettable educational experience and at the same time maintain and conserve the site for future generations and provide support for active archaeological research. To all of them, "muchas gracias de todo corazón."

We would also like to thank all the personnel of the Hotel Meliá for their patience and friendly treatment toward us. We really appreciated their smiling faces every afternoon when we arrived from the field all dirty and smelly. Our deepest gratitude goes especially to Nicolás Albors, president; Enrique Albors, manager; and Cathy Becerra, director of reservations, for their support and for making our lives a lot easier by providing us with a hot shower and a cool room.

Ray Petty, president of the Fundación del Centro Ceremonial de Tibes, has also been a strong and avid ally, friend, and supporter of the project since its inception. We appreciate all his effort, work, and assistance throughout all the years we have been working at Tibes.

We are also in debt to a number of colleagues, friends, and family who always offered their help and who in one way or another contributed directly or indirectly to the project. First of all, Lee Newsom, co-director of the project from 1995 to 2003, was instrumental in many aspects of the project. She not only helped in designing the methodology to follow but also educated us in many of the intricacies of the analysis of biological samples in archaeology. Pedro Alvarado Zayas, Juan González Colón, Luis Rodríguez Gracia, Edgar Maiz, and Eduardo Questell, founding members of the Sociedad Guaynía, provided us on one occasion or another with valuable information and suggestions. Listening to their anecdotal stories of the harshness of the early years of archaeological research at Tibes did nothing but humble us and dwarf any of our efforts at the site.

Many people provided us with suggestions, materials, and other support. Discussions with Miguel Rodríguez, José Oliver, Reniel Rodríguez, Joshua Torres, Edwin Crespo, and Jaime Pérez on many of the issues we are dealing with helped us to better focus and reevaluate many of the premises and goals of the project. Ramón Almodovar and Carmen Martínez Almodovar provided us with specimens of plants and animals and with their extensive knowledge of them. Their contributions to the project were essential to the studies of faunal and botanical remains and bone chemistry, the results of which are included in this volume. Melquiades Medina provided his skill as carpenter, building a variety of equipment for our fieldwork. Jill Seagard deserves credit for the figures in Chapters 1, 2, 3, 8, and 9.

We are also in debt to a large number of support staff and volunteer students from the following institutions: Gettysburg College, Southern Illinois University at Carbondale, University of Colorado at Denver, University of Pennsylvania, University of Illinois at Chicago, University of Florida, and the Field Museum. Most of the studies included in this volume were made possible by the generous financial support of many institutions, including Gettysburg College, National Geographic Society (Grants #6260-98 and #7276-02), Heinz Foundation, National Science Foundation (DUE-#9551495, Ref. #0106520), the Grainger Research Fund of the Field Museum, and donations from Ms. Beverly Gunness, Mr. and Mrs. William S. Macdonald, Mr. and Mrs. William A. Osborn, Mr. and Mrs. Richard J. Pigott, and Mr. and Mrs. Edward J. Zander.

We want to thank our friends and family who stood by us throughout the length of the project. Jaime Pérez, a friend and colleague, also provided us with words of support and encouragement. LAC would like to thank my sons, Miguel and Daniel, for being patient during my summer field seasons and, on occasion, helping in the field. Their constant presence, in body or spirit, gave me the motivation to keep going. My parents, brothers, and sisters have always been there for me, too. Their help, support, and patience with me are admirable and greatly appreciated. I only hope that I at least gave them something to be proud of. LMS would like to thank my husband, Kevin, and my parents and sister for their love and support; without them my trips to the field would not have been possible. I would also like to thank Antonio Curet and Lee Newsom for giving me the opportunity to get back into the field in 2003: little did we know then that I would stay with the project and have the opportunity to contribute on a long-term basis. I would also like to thank the visitors to Tibes, who even on our worst days could reenergize us with their enthusiasm for what we were doing. I would have never thought that so many people would have wanted dirty, stinky archaeologists in their vacation photos!

1

Introduction

L. Antonio Curet and Lisa M. Stringer

After over a hundred years of research and time served as one of the backwaters of anthropological archaeology in the New World, Caribbean archaeology is experiencing a renaissance. In early times, archaeologists in this region concentrated almost exclusively on the important, but limited, issues of migrations and culture histories. Fairly simple methods of excavation and artifact and data analysis were used, and issues relating to other social and cultural practices were normally ignored or assumed without further confirmation. Since the early 1980s, however, Caribbean archaeologists have begun expanding their investigative horizons by adding a wide variety of research topics, including interaction between human communities (e.g., Crock 2000; Curet 2004; Hofman 1995; Hofman and Hoogland 1999; Rodríguez Ramos and Pagán Jiménez 2006; Torres 2001, 2005), social and cultural processes (e.g., Chanlatte Baik and Narganes Storde 1986; Curet 1992a, 1992b, 1996; Curet and Oliver 1998; Oliver 1998; Siegel 1989, 1991, 1992, 1996, 1999; Veloz Maggiolo 1991, 1993), subsistence systems (e.g., Chanlatte Baik and Narganes Storde 1983; deFrance 1989; deFrance et al. 1996; Newsom 1993; Newsom and Deagan 1994; Newsom and Wing 2004; Wing 2001a, 2001b, 2001c), and social organization (e.g., Boomert 2001; Curet 2002, 2003; Keegan and Maclachlan 1989; Keegan et al. 1998; Tavares María 1996; Valcárcel Rojas 1999, 2002). Furthermore, new field, laboratory, and data-processing methodologies have been applied or developed to ensure the collection of appropriate data to address these topics (see various papers in Hofman et al. 2008). Needless to say, many of the new avenues of research have forced a reevaluation of accepted understandings of the past inhabitants of the region.

The present book is about a project that is part of this trend. Particularly, our interest lies in studying changes in social organization in ancient Puerto Rico from a lower level and smaller scale of analysis. As in most regions throughout the world, Caribbean archaeology has traditionally studied changes in the archaeological record using cultures as the main unit of analysis. While useful to develop the general chronology of the region and to define spatial distributions of cultural traits, this approach is not appropriate to study fine-grained processes such as those present in social and cultural changes (see Curet 2003). On the contrary, in order to study many of these processes, research has to focus on smaller scales and lower levels of analysis, in social and cultural units where decisions were made and social and cultural interactions occurred that eventually led to the changes we are studying. This does not mean that we have to ignore higher levels and larger scales, but until recently these units have received most of the attention in the Caribbean, while we know very little about smaller units and the people who composed them. As discussed below, for this reason the Archaeological Project of Tibes has been designed to use households and the settlement as our main unit of analysis.

In preparing the research design of the project, two approaches were kept in mind: multidisciplinary and multistage strategies. It is clear that in order to gain a better understanding of the past we need the combined information that can only be provided by other disciplines. Most of the chapters in this volume are the result of this approach, as they are the product of specialists in various fields of study. Although this was the idea since the inception of the project, it has to be admitted that not all these studies were part of the original research design and some of them became affiliated with the project in different ways. The paleoethnobotanical, zoological, soil, and regional studies were planned from the beginning, but other analyses such as the lithology, osteological, bone chemistry, geophysical, and regional studies were initiated by other colleagues. However, these latter colleagues have been working in collaboration with the main project to ensure an efficient way of integrating data from all projects and to benefit each other.

Moreover, the evidence collected and the results of the contributions of other colleagues to the project made us change some aspects of our approach. Even though our emphasis was on small units of analysis and lower levels of social groups, it was clear almost from the onset of the project that while many of the processes of interest tended to originate at these levels, they were also integrated within larger units and higher levels (see Torres, this volume). We were forced, therefore, to use a multiscalar approach to the analysis of the data. So, we ask the reader to keep in mind that while most of the chapters included in this volume concentrate on work done at Tibes, the results can be integrated into studies done of other sites in the region to help create a more complete picture.

In the rest of this chapter we present the geological, chronological, cultural, and theoretical contexts of the site and the project. The descriptions of these contexts will serve as a backdrop for all of the chapters that follow and serve as a basis for understanding both the issues and the explanations provided in each case. We finish the chapter with a short discussion of the rest of the volume.

Social and Political Change in the Caribbean

Although the Caribbean presents many advantages for the study of stratified societies, traditionally this topic has been neglected or poorly studied. With few exceptions, archaeological studies have emphasized cultural history with little attention to prehistoric social organizations. It was not until the 1970s that models for social and cultural changes began to be developed, but even then, the discipline continued to be focused mostly on culture-historical studies. Most of the early suggestions for studying the development of social stratification were environmental and demographic models (Chanlatte Baik and Narganes Storde 1986; López Sotomayor 1975; Stokes 1998; Veloz Maggiolo 1977–1978), in which generally the determinant factors (e.g., population growth and environmental stress) were taken for granted. Nevertheless, correlation between those factors and social and political changes has been little supported in the archaeological record (Curet 1992a, 1993). More recently, several Caribbeanists have taken a more political-economy approach to the study of social stratification and have emphasized sociopolitical, ideological, and economic factors involved in the development of this type of society. Many of these models tend to argue that emerging elite made use of some aspects of religious rituals and symbols to claim a special position in society that, when combined with control and use of economic power (e.g., through feasting), helped them to acquire, consolidate, and maintain political power. However, due to the lack of appropriate information, most of the published arguments have been based on coarse-grained data obtained from ethnohistoric sources, several sites, wide regions, entire islands, or even groups of islands (Curet 1992a, 1996; Curet and Oliver 1998; Keegan 1991; Keegan and Maclachlan 1989; Oliver 1998; Siegel 1996, 1999). Very little effort has gone toward the collection of more refined data at the smaller level of the community or household in order to develop more detailed and realistic models.

The approach of using information at the level of culture in the modeling of past human behavior in the Caribbean has multiple deficiencies, four of which are discussed here. First, as is the case in many parts of the world, there may be an overt reliance on ethnohistoric models to describe ancient social and political organizations. In the majority of cases these ethnohistoric reconstructions and models are extrapolated to explain and describe indigenous societies from previous periods and from other regions within the Caribbean. In other words, they become the standard used to evaluate and explain the archaeological record of disparate areas and periods. One correlate of using the early Spanish chronicles to characterize the indigenous groups from the Greater Antilles is the assumption that the information provided in the chronicles is representative of all the societies in these islands. This assumption is based on the premise that Caribbean societies from different islands were culturally and socially uniform with very little diversity. Following this line of thinking, most of the information provided in the chronicles has been applied to the reconstruction of other indigenous societies for which ethnohistoric documents are lacking. An example of this is the use of the terms and concepts of cacique and cacicazgo to describe any stratified indigenous society of the Greater Antilles, without addressing the applicability of the analogy. Other scholars have applied this model to the Lesser Antilles (Crock 2000) and Bahamas (Keegan 1992, 1997a), and one extreme application is the use of the cacicazgos of the Greater Antilles as a standard for studying similar societies in other parts of the New World (Redmond and Spencer 1994). Considering that the great majority of the ethnohistorical information was collected from various groups from the island of Hispaniola, it is unclear how much of the cultural and social reconstructions are applicable to other islands, or even to all parts of Hispaniola itself. There are strong reasons to doubt that all polities within Hispaniola and in the rest of the Caribbean were highly stratified and centralized societies (Anderson Córdova 1990; Curet 2003; Tavares María 1996; Wilson 1990). It is argued here, therefore, that although the cacicazgo model is a good starting point for the analysis of past social organizations in the Caribbean, its applicability in different regions and periods has to be tested rather than assumed.

Further, in most cases, we have assumed that the only possible form of hierarchical societies in the Caribbean is the cacicazgo described by the Spanish chronicles, without considering other possible forms of sociopolitical organization. In recent years, anthropological discussions of nonegalitarian societies have recognized the existence of various forms of social organization (i.e., heterarchy, corporate and network strategies, etc.), including some that contain features from both egalitarian and hierarchical societies as traditionally defined (Blanton et al. 1996; Crumley 1995; Feinman 1995; Feinman et al. 2000; McGuire and Saitta 1996; Saitta 1997). The possibility that some Period III or IV societies were organized in any of these alternate social forms has to be considered. We cannot discard a priori that other forms of hierarchical societies also existed in the Caribbean. Even if all of these groups were organized in cacicazgos as described by the Spaniards, there is evidence indicating that many of them had differential numbers of decision-making levels (Tavares María 1996; Wilson 1990). Thus, the political arena of the different islands or even regions within a culture area could have been composed of a spectrum of different types and sizes of middle-range societies instead of standardized political units or polities. Also, it is important to recognize that multiple forms of nonegalitarian societies could have existed not only in different islands but also within the same island or region.

Another deficiency present in many of the general models suggested for the Greater Antilles resides in the units of analysis used. Most of these models automatically make use of the cultural categories developed by Rouse (1992) for the reconstruction of culture history as the basic social and political unit without a further evaluation. We tend to ignore the reasons for their original creation and assume, consciously or unconsciously, that they are natural categories innate to the archaeological assemblages. While the definition of archaeological cultures was, and still is, very useful as a general chronological framework, it cannot be forgotten that they were created for tracking migrations and reconstructing cultural sequences and as such they are not necessarily concepts that should be used for every type of study. Rouse's categories were developed from a normative perspective that emphasized similarities and differences at higher levels of analysis, i.e., cultures and peoples, levels of analysis that may be inappropriate for the study of social processes that are mostly related to lower levels such as immediate regions, communities, households, or individuals. Competition for status, long-distance exchange, elite interaction, warfare, and other social activities are phenomena that occur at these lower levels and rarely at the level of culture. Many of these categories, moreover, are too encompassing and tend to homogenize significant social, cultural, and chronological variability in the archaeological record that, while not critical for culture history, are of vital importance for the understanding and reconstruction of social processes and organizations.

Finally, it has to be recognized that while most of the previous theoretical constructs deal with the aggrandizers or social climbers (especially the successful ones), it would be folly to envision the rest of the population as an idle entity shaped and formed according to the will of the power seekers. Since to a certain degree every faction, segment of society, household, and even person has the capacity to make decisions, the rest of the population has the option to resist, react, or conform to the actions of the social climbers. Thus, an important point in the study of social and cultural developments is the overall response (or level of resistance) of other segments of society to the machinations, strategies, and/or changes facilitated by some individuals or groups and how the emerging elite monopolized and sustained various forms of power. Thus, in certain situations (e.g., when power is shared by different institutions), factions or individuals have to negotiate and renegotiate with other segments of society to be able to accomplish specific social goals. This is an issue that has not been addressed by any of the models developed for the Caribbean.

Previous studies have highlighted the necessity of developing research strategies flexible enough to assess factors unique to individual case studies, relative to those based on general principles, in order to understand the broader significance of social and cultural developments. On the basis of the points discussed above, it is strongly believed that at least initially this can be accomplished by using domestic groups and communities as our basic units of analysis. It is for this reason that this research project focuses on the study of household and community economy, organization, and composition at the case study site in the Caribbean. Specifically, the project is interested in measuring at the local level changes in household economy, internal organization, and accessibility to economic, religious, and symbolic resources related to the development and internal operation of socially stratified societies. Thus, the study is concerned with determining the role of small groups of individuals in the development and reproduction of institutionalized leadership and how they managed or manipulated natural, economic, political, social, and ideological resources to acquire, increase, and maintain (or share) different forms of power (Blanton et al. 1996; Brumfiel 1992; Cowgill 1993; Earle 1997). At the same time, the project explores the organization of households within communities and the region and how these institutions shifted (or reacted) with changes in the social, political, and economic realms. Another point of interest is determining the environmental, social, and historical conditions that allowed the decisions made by individuals or factions to be successful in controlling different dimensions of social power (Earle 1997). Ultimately, we would like to understand how these small social units are related to the community and society at large by studying how their archaeological correlates relate to the public structures within the ceremonial center of Tibes.

Ancient History of Puerto Rico

Although scientific archaeology started in Puerto Rico at the beginning of the twentieth century (e.g., De Hostos 1941; Fewkes 1970), it was not until the mid-1930s with the works of Rainey (1940), later expanded by Rouse (1952, 1964, 1982, 1986, 1992), that cultural groups were better defined chronologically, based mainly on ceramic attributes. Rouse (1986, 1992) used a hierarchical taxonomic system in which styles were defined using ceramic modes. These modes correspond to a particular geographic region and chronological period. Styles related in space and/or time are grouped in subseries according to their similarities. Finally, subseries are grouped in series. Since archaeologically Tibes is located in and belongs to the cultural tradition of eastern Puerto Rico, the discussion that follows emphasizes this tradition as defined by Rouse (1964, 1982) and summarized by Rodríguez (1992) and Curet (1992a, 1996; Curet et al. 2004).

While Archaic groups had been present in Puerto Rico at least since 3500 B.C. (see Ayes Suárez 1989; Moscoso 1999; Rodríguez 1997, 1999; Rodríguez Ramos 2002a, 2002b), the early Ceramic age is characterized mostly by the Cedrosan Saladoid (300 B.C.–A.D. 600) subseries, which is generally equated with the first horticultural and ceramic-producing groups to migrate to Puerto Rico from the South American continent. In Rouse's model, the Cedrosan Saladoid in Puerto Rico has three typical styles, Hacienda Grande (300 B.C.–A.D. 400), La Hueca (300 B.C.–A.D. 300), and Cuevas (A.D. 400–600), although there is some debate about the nature of the La Hueca style wherein some scholars are arguing convincingly that it is unrelated to any Saladoid style (see Oliver 1999 for a review of the debate). The Saladoid series is characterized by high-quality ceramics and the use of paint as the main decorative technique. On the basis of the lack of evidence of social stratification in burials and household deposits, most Caribbean researchers consider Saladoid groups to have been relatively egalitarian or tribal in nature (e.g., Boomert 2001; Curet 1996; Curet and Oliver 1998; Keegan 2000; López Sotomayor 1975:103; Moscoso 1986:307; Rouse 1992:33; Siegel 1996, 1999).

The Cedrosan Saladoid was followed by the Ostionoid series (A.D. 600–1500). Rather than a foreign migration, this transition seems to be the result of local development in Puerto Rico. Interestingly, by the onset of this series, Puerto Rico had developed two spatially distinct cultural and stylistic divisions, the Elenan and Ostionan subseries (A.D. 600–1200), each with its own styles. The Elenan subseries of the Ostionoid series is associated with both the Monserrate (A.D. 600–900) and the Santa Elena (A.D. 900–1200) styles of eastern Puerto Rico. The Ostionan subseries is divided into the Pure (A.D. 600–900) and Modified (A.D. 900–1200) Ostiones styles (Rouse 1982), which are concentrated on the western side of the island. During the interval of the Elenan subseries, eastern Puerto Rico saw dramatic changes, including a sharp increase in the number of sites, the development of ball courts, plazas, and ceremonial centers (including Tibes), shifts in mortuary practices, and a decrease in the size of houses. The intensity and nature of these changes have led Moscoso (1986:301) and Veloz Maggiolo (1977–1978:59) to argue that they are strongly related to sociopolitical changes, from which institutionalized social stratification emerged.

In addition to the general trend in simplification of the pottery assemblage from the Hacienda Grande to the Santa Elena styles, there was also a decrease in aesthetics (in both stylistic complexity and aesthetic priority) and in craftsmanship. Saladoid ceramics tend to have finer paste and are thinner-walled than Elenan Ostionoid ceramics, and the general appearance of the former is more refined relative to the latter. Thus, the tendency in ceramics is of degradation of the workmanship and a reduction in the use of symbolic decoration in the form of designs. These gradual but radical changes have been described as a de-evolution by Roe (1989) and the later ceramic styles as the Dark Ages of the Greater Antilles by Rouse (1982). However, while the pottery is less appealing to the eye, physical analysis suggests that post-Saladoid pottery is better manufactured for utilitarian uses (Curet 1996).

The last ancient period (A.D. 1200–1500) in Rouse's cultural chronology for Puerto Rico consists of the Chican subseries of the Ostionoid series. The Chican Ostionoid is considered to be the archaeological expression of the Taíno groups encountered by Europeans. As in the case of the earlier Ostionoid, this subseries presents regional ceramic variations, in this case at the level of styles and not at the level of the subseries. In western Puerto Rico, the Capá style predominates, while in the eastern area the Esperanza style is dominant. Although both styles are characterized by the use of incisions and combinations of incised lines and punctation, the Capá