A day in the life – Mayan Mexico
In case the reader is adverse to words today, the galleries of the featured photos are presented up front:
CENOTES PHOTO GALLERY RIGHT HERE!
Click below those wanting words furnished with a few pics..
Back to the story..
So now the date is early September and I’m fast curving west and north through southern Mexico from Cancun on a turbo tour up towards Mexico City.
Day One – Vallavolid:
After a few restless hours sleep in a hot, musty box room, I arise early to get the first bus to Chichen Itza, the magnificent Mayan ruins and one of the most well known, imagining the ancient city in it’s prime, blue and red stucco vibrant and powerful – impossibly different to our world today.
Despite thrashing downpours in the rainy season, the terrain in the Yucutan peninsula doesn’t hold much water. Cenotes, or underground sinkholes, were the only year round source of water throughout much of the land, as well as being a place for sacrifice.
There are two cenotes at the site.
Chitchen Itza is built around these and how the city derives it’s name – ‘Chi’ means ‘mouth’, ‘Chen’ means ‘well’ and ‘Itza’ is the name of the tribe that lived there.
‘Chichen Itza’ – the people at the mouth of the wells.
And what a city they must have lived in..
When the Spanish first came to the New World, they did not conquer savages, as they presumed them, but great and proud empires on a cultural level to rival that of their conqueurors. These indios or Aztecs, Mexica, Mayas, Toltecs, Zapotecs etc had art, writing and books. Perhaps most impressively, they had engineering skills that allowed them to move blocks of stones larger than houses over mountains. They had a more accurate astronomy, and more mathmatically precise calender. The roads were safer and more durable than the foul ruts running through many of the current locales, and their buildings more solid.
In other words, we annihilated civilizations of cultured intelligent peoples.
The above passage is a paraphrased fictional speech taken from a book I was reading.. They are the words of a priest, Father Hidalgo, the man who initiated and led the revolution of indendence to free Mexico from it’s tight Spanish grip.
El Castillo, the grand centerpiece:
Serpents at the base of El Castillo, still hunger for human flesh:
The current inhabitants of Chichen Itza:
Inspiration for Andy Warhol?
Arriving back just after midday, I wolf down a street snack ant taco and attempt to rehydrate whilst scouting around for a bike hire shop. My bus to the next port of call, a day’s travel by bus, was leaving that afternoon so the luxury of time was not with me.
Hiring a bike without brakes turned out not to be the disaster it could have been thanks to relatively flat roads and a lack of traffic. I made it to some cenotes that I wanted to visit in good time.
These dark sinkholes set in limestone formations were possibly caused a meteor striking the Yucatan a long time ago.
Stunningly still and beautiful, they are a little unnerving when swimming alone in them, the dark water lit in the middle by a shard of light, turning the water a bright turquoise where it strikes. Tree roots hang all the way down from the hole high up to drink from the cool water below. Bats and birds to and fro amongst the stalactites that hang low from the limestone roof.
I swim amongst the blind black catfish and take in the refreshing cool, a sharp contrast to the blazing heat outside.
Making equally good time back from the cenotes, I wake the owner from a siesta and return his bike. The downside to making such good time was that I was dripping sweat and completely unable to cool down in the afternoon sun..
Sitting roadside, I sink another drink, thinking about how best to cool off. People stop on their way past to talk to me.
I ask one middle aged lady where it’s possible to shower in this town and end up asking if it would be possible to use hers for a few pesos.
She kindly obliges in return for me carrying her shopping home.
The shower was bliss. Cold, powerful and cold.
I was just drying off in somewhat of a post cool down daze when the door swings open and a large framed, heavily moustachioed man strode in, clearly not expecting me there. His shouts in Spanish confirmed this, as did the surprised look on his face which turned to confused anger with incredible speed.
In no doubt shoddy Spanish on my part I think I managed to explain the situation reasonably well. The man turned and left, nearly as briskly as he came in.
A good a time as any to get dressed quickly and leave, I thought and hurried my clothes back on.
The man burst back in as I was pulling my shorts up but his face burst into a broad smile. He insisted that we go and drink. I tried to politely decline, saying that my bus was leaving shortly and it was very important that I get on it. It was the truth but traditional Mexican men such as this one can be very insistent when matters such as pride or being macho are concerned.
One beer was agreed upon which after finsihing was followed up with the insistence of a second, despite my best efforts otherwise.
I managed to pull off the reverse macho move with a cry of “Viva Mexico!” and suggestion of a farewell tequila. This was heartily accepted with a banging of chest and three more farewell tequilas, followed by my tipsy escape to the bus station.
A short wait and a sandwich later, it was time for my bus to Merida, from where I would have an hour or two wait before a connecting bus to Palenque, another great Mayan city, this time set against a jungle backdrop, the humidity rising..
Explore posts in the same categories: Mexico, Photos
MondayMorningMutiny.com 
December 10, 2007 at 12:45 pm
Hey those sinkhole pictures are amazing, though as you said, it must’ve been pretty eery down there with just blind catfish for company…. Hope you sent them my regards…
love the lizard dude at Chcichen Itza as well :o)