When an eclipse darkened the sky in the good old days, people didn’t just whip out their ISO-certified glasses and smartphones for a quick pic. No, sir! They got busy appeasing the celestial beings, convinced that the sun being gobbled up was a cosmic tantrum needing serious placation.

Imagine this: one minute, you’re farming, and the next, you’re knee-deep in a ceremonial shindig because the sun played hide-and-seek with the moon. The ancient playbook dictated that the only way to get the sun back was by throwing a heavenly party, complete with all the trimmings — songs, dances, feasts, and, oh yes, the occasional sacrifice.

The musical score of the day wasn’t your typical top 40 hits but an ensemble of drums, flutes, and chants, creating a soundtrack that aimed to soothe the celestial beasts. Communities came together, not in backyard barbecues, but in grand celebrations, decked in their finest, hoping to impress the sun and moon out of their celestial tête-à-tête.

And let’s not forget the pièce de la résistance: the sacrifices. Plants, animals, and — brace yourself — even humans were offered to the sun with a hopeful “please come back” note. These were not mere acts of desperation but deeply symbolic gestures rooted in the belief that the most valuable offerings would win the gods’ favor and restore cosmic order.

So, please spare a thought for our ancestors the next time you catch an eclipse. They had to work much harder than us to ensure the cosmic lights came back on, navigating the delicate art of divine diplomacy with only sheer faith and a penchant for grand celestial appeasement.