Santa Caterina - Lake Atitlan
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Supporting SOPA/PIPA
On January 18, 2012, sites all over the internet will be blacking out to protest and try to mobilize more people to speak out against this bill coming up in the Senate next week, S. 968: the Protect IP Act (PIPA) in an attempt to let U.S. lawmakers know how much opposition there is. WordPress.org, Wikipedia, and even WordPress.com VIP I Can Has Cheezburger? will be participating in the blackout to raise awareness and spur you to action.
Eye Heart Anonymous Eyeglass Donors in Santa Catarina Palopo
Highland Mayans, particularly seniors, are prone to eye problems. If they work the fields, the sun often causes a rinding like cataracts and older women develop difficulties doing their close work. And, although there are many ways that used glasses are donated and recycled say by the Lions Club, Lighthouse for the Blind, chain opticians, etc. – donors cannot be everywhere. Some places like Santa Catarina Palopo fall through the cracks.
So I was delighted to meet an anonymous donor over eggnog at Guatemala Bed and Breakfast. Mrs. N. Gringo (not her real name) told me a story and invited me to attend one of their giveaways in a local tienda. Over several years they had purchased and given away about 1,500 pairs of readers and as many sunglasses.
We were early but by chance four members of the Gringo family including two twin grandkids were waiting on the curb. While we waited, he Gringo’s daughter explained, “My parents had been doing this (glasses give away) for a while when this nine year old came in with her mother. It was clear that she had a serious condition and that she needed special care. Since then, my mom traveled to Guatemala City with Anna Christina and her mom and she was fitted with special ‘magical’ glasses. Eventually, when she is fully grown, she can have corrective eye surgery.”
Mrs. N. Gringa exalted about the young woman. “She is always at my side and makes a real point of correcting my Spanish. We share a dog – along with its real owners. (The Gringos had the dog neutered and treated for mange before they realized he belonged to another family.) So, now, I pay Anna Christina to feed him. That way she has a job and the dog eats. When we are together the dog is dancing.” Then Mrs. G. told me that Anna Christina loves to work with them fitting the glasses and that she will be patiently explaining everything in Cackaquel.
Just then a slim woman approached; she was instantly identifiable by her thick but stylish glasses and the hound’s ferocious wagging. She would stand close to her Abuelita (grandma) coaxing and consulting about their “patients” for the next two hours. After this the Gringos would be celebrating three years with Anna Christina and her thirteenth birthday with presents and a feast at a beautiful house.
Before hopping on the truck back to Pana, I asked the Gringo’s daughter if Anna Christina wanted to go to the university. “Right now she doesn’t seem to be very interested in that. But, I am sure that if she is, she will have my parent’s full support.”
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Daily Life in the Mayan World — Part 2
A friend from that most murderous of capitals, Guatemala City, became alarmed about the masked vigilantes up here at the lake. She heard reports.
Last Spring there were pointed questions about our local encapuchados raised at a Muni meeting by a brave gringa woman. She had to ask the panel three times: Is it or is it not legal to wear a Pasa Montaña covering your face in public?
After much stalling, a-hemming and silence one of the mayor’s henchmen volunteered this answer — that the men hide their identities so that THEIR houses don’t get robbed whilst they are out patrolling on behalf of the community.
Since then, it seems the masked encapuchado committee spent most of the rainy season not only getting energized by the coffee and donuts (delivered by ambivalent neighbors) but, also, by going out marauding. Word on the street was that the hooded men could be hired for private duty. They have been known to punish the errant wives of their patrons in this capacity and may have assaulted more than 45 people.
When Lucia Escobar, a radical journalist, accused the committee of abduction, their chief (Jefe) had the temerity to menace her publicly. He ran his rant on cable; fortunately someone videoed it and put it up on You Tube. This snarly guy is hisses for 15 minutes that the writer is not even worth being dunked in the sewage water. (Like the guy who owned the NIHGT CLUB (sic.))
“When I am through, you will rot in the garbage like this piece of paper.” He says, brandishing a post-it.
Since his arrest a vigil has been held in front of the muni. All day long, Mayan ladies barbeque under a canopy hung with signs proclaiming el Jefe’s innocence. Sharing the opposite table are heaps of used-used- used clothes to sell for the defense fund. A demijohn holding the cash donations is less than a quarter full of one denominated Quetzals (worth 15 cents each.)
Speaking of masks, playing Halloween was really a challenge. Our only sources are the town pacas (used-used clothes store.) The most “together” costume belonged to Sierra, the barkeep at La Palapa bar. She showed up sporting a perfect “Santa Baby” peignoir set. It was a coup to score a perfect gossamer red bed jacket trimmed with fluffy, white ostrich feathers AND the matching short gown. But to have found a Santa hat to go with this was miraculous….. Alas my costume entitled “The Ghost of Paca Lingerie Past” simply paled next to Sierra’s.
La Palapa had a guisquil carving contest where people worked small squash into flambé monsters with wild titles like “Arachnid Bride in Vera Wang,” “Smokey” “King Cabazza Rastafari.”
At one party, the British hostess, who has a perfect BBC accent appeared chewing gum in a halter and cut-offs going as “White Trash.” One fellow tricked out a black t-shirt with two parallel, dashed, yellow lines down his chest and taped a fork under one; he called his outfit “Fork in the road.” It was way too clever for him and after lots of badgering, he admitted to getting the idea on line. But, the funniest was only a story. I asked Michael why he appeared in his work clothes and he said it was because he knew that he could never beat last year. He came as “Cashew man,” a particularly annoying street vendor who still approaches you after 300 “NO’s.” Michael, a big man, had worn a straw hat and white shirt and carried a bag of nuts. If people didn’t get it, he and imitated the real “Cashew man” by pointedly inquiring, ”Cashew?”
The next day was el Dia de Muertos and I wanted to observe it at the cemetery in Jucanya. Food stands are family living rooms. We decline the Gyro meat and step into the Easter Egg colored city of the dead. I see a family putting flowers on a crypt with two faded baby faces looking out of the ovals and note the 2005 date – Hurricane Stan. Another family is getting ready for their picnic. And, because it is a day of memorial for us all, I think of New York and the ten years since 9/11. And, cycling I flash to the grateful prayer prayed when NOAA announced that the hurricane would miss the great city.
A band toots through.
Incense and kites fill the sundown air.
All is well.
11NOV11
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Storm season’s final smackdown damages friend’s homes
The rains came late this year; they started to intensify around the time of the NYC hurricane scare. My neighbor’s Davis weather station confirmed that the “Amazon Pipeline” was delivering torrents from both the Atlantic and Pacific. Trees bent double as the drenching bands blew north- they flashed like flimsy x-rays in the lightening. After days of this, the Rio San Francisco engorged. Overnight, water borne boulders assaulted the shoring embankments and went on to pound even the legacy knolls all the way back to the seawalls. The erosion was so through that the twelve foot wide path to the Life School retained no more than a 6″ sliver of road. With roads washing away, of course, school was canceled in the Department of Solola.
The morning after Tropical Depression E12 passed, I was negotiating mud and admiring the earth mover parked on Santander. Then, I saw Amy looking pale and disoriented. The kindergarten teacher had been evacuated from her home on the Jucanya side by the Bomberos, who arrived at dawn with ropes cinched around their waists. After breakfast, we would form a posse to rescue some of her things and her absent landlord’s instruments. One of the men got permission to scale a neighbor’s fence and handed down cases of banjos, ukes and guitars to the ready brigade that had formed. By the afternoon, Amy was relocated with all of her belongings but she was still shaken. For a brief moment it looked as if Panajachel and Jucanya had “dodged the bullet” this season.
But, no… Word began to come in about Rosa Garcia’s brother, Guillermo.
He and his four month pregnant wife couldn’t sleep that night because the rain was beating too furiously. So, just before dawn they got up and went downhill to Rosa’s. It would be less than a half an hour until the mud and rocks crushed down and dumped an avalanche into their house while they watched from her driveway.
By the time I got to Rosa’s, in Patanatic, about a week later friends had excavated a small closet and most of their clothes had been rescued. The younger girls clowned and mugged for the camera while the work continues on in their uncle’s old house. Guillermo has already drawn up plans for his new house to be located between Miguel’s and Rosas’s. He probably will not return to his first house even after it has been cleaned. …
Friends in town are talking about a fundraiser for the family at Casa Cakchiquel and once arrangements have been finalized I will post a place send donations.
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Panajachel NGOs seek “organic” unification with Guatemala Non-Profit Network
Judy Sadlier of the Guatemala Non-Profit Network (GNN) was pleasantly overwhelmed by turnout for their introductory meeting at Casa Cakchiquel. The organizer from Antigua welcomed more than thirty five people representing a score of NGOs and not for profits from around Lake Atitlan. Collectively, her audience reaches way out beyond the impoverished and illiterate Department of Solola. Some of these people are designing their work to be scale-able and build it to roll throughout Guatemala and beyond. Others have more focused and comparatively, modest ambitions.
During the introductions, it would become apparent that these organizations are creatively addressing chronic concerns around health and education. For example, they are introducing micro-finance, micro-consignment, women’s empowerment, mobile libraries, vocational trainings, environmental stewardship, animal health, violence prevention and security. As exhaustive as their array of offerings is, still more impressive is the tens of thousands of people served by this handful. But, this powerful and dedicated audience came in with plenty of skepticism. After all, collaborations have been proposed before. And, nobody was particularly cheered because Ms. Sadlier’s Facebook page revealed that “… some call (her) Queen of the NGOs..” On the other hand, they were happy to learn that she earned her crown by establishing and growing the First (Guatemalan) Women’s Network in 1975.
She began her short remarks by enthusing that there are an equal number of local groups willing to participate but that they were unable to attend this meeting.
“We are going to explore the idea of bringing everyone together,” she began. And speaking from experience, she added, “The process must be ‘organic.’”
“In 2005-6 NGOs were not talking together and there was no publicity about them. So, we developed the Community Forum in Antigua to network opportunities and, from a meeting like this one, the idea of the GNN began. This Network schedules a series of presentations to be followed by a meeting. GNN produced a special event showcasing ten participants in order to raise awareness of their work within their communities and, secondarily, to raise funds. We now have a site, www.guatemala-ngos.net, with 75 members posting their profiles, job opportunities and events.”
The size of the crowd drove the meeting. The short but numerous introductions would make it necessary to forgo any agenda and cut right to a 20 minute brainstorming session. This part was peppered with good ideas and invitations. Someone advocated for sharing training instructors and materials; another person promoted exploring themes of best practices for small groups. Could we combine to find ways make a wider impact? Get on the radio? Develop volunteers? Share medicines? Actually collaborate this time?
When all was said, the demographics revealed only one Mayan founded organization; the rest were founded by North American and European women. That is: the most glaringly absent were representatives from the big name NGOs. Players like Habitat for Humanity, Nature Conservancy and the European NGOs that have greater access to government connections and the deepest pockets did not attend this meeting. Is it that they do not want to network or need to cooperate?
Setting up some kind of umbrella group for coordination and communications among NGOs is excellent and there are structural barriers. Beyond the obvious distinctions of capitalization, there are two general classes of missions: those that promote culture and tourism and those that support health and welfare. All incorporate with restrictive “mission statements” to enable them to solicit grants and donors. So, expanding beyond the stated scope and scale to, say, share resources might be minor charter violation or it could be tantamount to fraud.
The task before the organizers is massive. They need some sweetener such as the ultimate ability to connect to something the members could not access alone – like NetHope.org’s shared technologies In any case, they must define common ground, attract a credible percentage of the groups and develop a unifying theme before the next disaster.
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Starfish One by One empowers young women
Travis Ning the Executive Director of Starfish One by One invited me to attend a monthly meeting held at their office early one Sunday morning. These meetings offer teenage (and occasionally a bit older) participants a chance to share experiences and how they are doing in the intense and expansive program. The fifteen young women attending this morning have been recipients of Starfish’s scholarships since 2008. They were selected due to their inability to continue in secondary school. Now, almost through high school, they have a cherished history of exerting positive peer pressure on each other. They certainly need this kind of solid support system because they are often the most educated people in their families and, when they graduate, they will have more schooling than most females in their pueblos.
Sadly, completing high school is the exception in Guatemala. And, most indigenous girls do not go further than 7th grade. Mr. Ning says, “By the time girls are 12 their schooling is considered a “double burden”— they can clean houses, cook and watch the younger children. And, so, their further schooling deprives the family of an additional helper or income generator and besides that, sending a girl on to high school is a luxury that few can afford.” ($250 of the $1,000/per student cost of the Starfish One by One program goes toward covering direct school costs – books, fees, transportation and, when necessary, uniforms.)
Starfish One by One’s program directors and mentors tackle the four primary obstacles to girls’ education in Guatemala:
Poverty (endemic in the Highlands and especially among indigenous people)
Structural problems – such as distant and/or mediocre schools.
Family issues – at the least the parent’s lack of education and sometimes alcoholism and abuse
Social constraints – conditions that tend to disfavor Mayans and females.
The program offsets these negative impacts through:
Scholarships that lift the quotidian burdens of higher education and, to a lesser degree, help to mitigate the negative structural effects. Four parent meetings a year encourage them to be aware of their daughter’s current status and to celebrate and support her progress.
Regular weekly meetings/mentoring sessions are intended to bolster self esteem and to build confidence in the face of unfavorable norms.
Besides these gentle, strategic interventions, Starfish One by One seeks “spaces of collaboration” and additional ways to create conditions for academic success. For example, they may present Save the Children’s financial planning training (that includes starting a bank account in grade school) or use Wing’s reproductive education module or abstract from an environmental group’s program promoting stewardship. These are additional “gifts” that the program provides on the way to empowering the girls.
“In the beginning, many of the girls wanted to be doctors or lawyers. So we bring different kinds of professionals to talk about their work. There was one doctor, who was very honest. He said that studying medicine was the hardest thing he had ever done; that he wanted to quit many times. After that, only a few raised their hands when we asked who wants to be a doctor,” recalled Mr. Ning.
“We are doing one thing – girl’s empowerment and given our model, we cannot expand beyond 300. We want to do a lot for a few instead of doing a little for a lot. ‘The Girl Effect’ is the best way to tackle the otherwise daunting list of problems in Guatemala like malnutrition, environmental degradation, or economic exclusion” Mr. Ning concluded.
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Oxlajuj B’atz’ celebrates Indigenous People’s Day
Oxlajuj B’atz’ was preparing for Indigenous People’s Day celebrations at Casa Cakchiquel when I got there on Monday. Both floors of the place were in urgent disarray with all hands engaged. Ladies in clusters were cutting colored backs for printouts detailing the history of the group, names of the exhibitions and types of tipica foods available. Some women were carefully creating a 10’x10’ linguistic map showing the Mayan dialects distributed throughout Guatemala. And, in the tienda, an intense gaggle was about ironing and arranging merchandise. Everyone was running and harried by the number of items that needed to be checked off their lists. In this wild chaos, Lucia Chavez was concentrating. She was preparing questions for the indigenous speakers that would be empanelled in the opening session – a political forum.
Outside, a construction crew built a stage on one side of the garden. The 6” high platform was packed with earth and readied in its rock frame, then, an audience space was cleared and flattened. Concrete footings with ominous looking rebar were in evidence, but workers fitted the impaling rods with wood before setting about sinking temporary posts. These would be used for stretching a white cloth wall covering the rest of the construction site.
I volunteered to hang the show of photos and regional costumes because that looked like a snap. But, it could never have been done without professional help. For a while Robert Eggs assisted patiently guiding photos level and plumb — from the other side of the wall. Then, he called two workers in from the yard. The skilled pair quickly hung several traje ensembles (full “suits” with skirt, quipel and belting) effortlessly from the rafters.
By Saturday morning, Sonidos de mi Tierra, the marimba band had set up in the foyer and Casa was entirely ready to welcome guests. They began arriving by minivan or walking in from the chicken bus stop with kids and grandmas in tow. Greeting them was most delicious. Not only were they dressed to thrill and ready for the day, they were all so friendly and open. So, it was quite surprising that they stayed in their groups rather than “working the room.” From a distance the groups looked like they had intentionally sorted themselves out by color. Within their location’s colors are specific family variations that add personality to the florals, geometrics and animals. Someone from Solola had a fish on her guipel – the first I had seen.
Before the speakers arrived, the Shaman, Sebastiana Pol Suy from Chichicastenango, carefully set up her herb display and drew the Mayan glyph for the day/date before laying small candles in a polar array. She was sharing her platform with a little girl who was amused her brother and two women who would be demonstrating how to make tortillas to the gringos. Exhibitors displayed chocolate, spun, wove and hooked rugs. The garden was buzzing and crowded when the forum began.
The audience listened to indigenous members of Rigoberto Menchu’s party speaking on why women and particularly Mayan women need to find their voices and come out to vote in the upcoming elections. People who are more facile in Spanish than I told me that the panelists made several references and tied current conditions back to the Civil War. It was close to one o’clock when the Arroz Con Pollo Chapina, tamales and rellenos were served. Everyone took her plate back to shady seats under the canvas. As usual, the children were remarkably serene with no electronics or gizmos to amuse themselves. They made their balloons last all day – no squeaking, no popping and not even angling for seconds.
The grand finale was a suite of folk dances performed by barefooted women from Solola. These were mostly line dances with different costumes and props. The first dance was in regular garb with baskets and shawls; a later one had a couple of the women in calf length ceremonial robes waving live incense burners over the other kneeling players. For the last dance they came out in prefab masks and quilted housecoats and took audience members by the hand to do a free swing to the marimba band’s smooth and traditional sound.
The guests left as the garden cooled in the late afternoon shade.
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Colectivo hopping from San Cristobal de las Casas
There are many short adventures less than an hour away from San Cristobal de las Casas.
And, although there are tours, I caught a colectivo (cheap van) and got packed in with women in satin guipils and sheepskin skirts; the men wore hip length pullovers made of the same stuff. We all cruised, fur side out, through black sheep country into San Juan Chamula ahead of the rain and were deposited in an empty square. Clearly, it wasn’t market day. So, I stepped across the street into the (no kidding) Wal-Mart sized indoor market. There were a few local shoppers rattling around, idly circling produce and meat vendors and, towards the back and all along the outside, there were stalls full of local tipica (handcrafts.)
I halfheartedly looked at yet more Mexican guipels. What I kept seeing all over was garments made from gauzey cotton often constructed with too many puffs and pleats at the shoulders and bodice and almost never in my colors. Generally, the simple patterns and large scale embroidery does not compare to the Guatemalan creations but I found some gorgeous exceptions.
The Mexican designer we met in Palanque and some of her colleagues had arranged to do a fashion shoot up in Zinacantan. They met with the local families and with their cooperation produced an exhibit. She came in and invited us to the opening near Tierra Dentro. At the party, we would meet her other partners and see the family advisors all dressed in cassock shaped light blue and violet flowered quipils with pastel accents. The men had bullfighter red Jackets lavishly adorned at the shoulders, plackets and cuffs with delicate flowers. Most exciting, our friend had on a back laced bustier tailored in the village’s style.
With kind help, I found a colectivo to Zinacantan in the late morning. The town had only a handful of stores on a short shopping street but, there was one remarkable place with very precious goods. They were asking fair trade prices north of $350. They were beautiful and I would have bought one but blue-violet doesn’t mix with my colors. The collective turned out to be one way so I had a long wait until I could find transportation back.
The Sumidero boat rides you through a deep water canyon and turns back at a hydroelectric dam. Along the way there are some reptiles, lovely cranes and a plastic bag and bottle morass. A clean-up crew manned several boats, near the shore. My fellow travelers were very helpful pointing out the monkeys and tiny crock babies. We had lunch in Chiapa de Corzo – it is on the river and the first colonial city in the region. There is something very inviting about this place. It has a square as large as San Cristobal’s and, yes, it is very commercial. But, sipping a beer on the wide dockside and looking down river back towards the canyon, I was a relaxed and absorbed as if I were along the IJ, the Seine or the East River.
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Chiapas – romping, stomping and chomping
Mexican Ruins – Chiapas – Yaxchilán and Bonampak
Day trip to Palanque, Agua Azul and Misol-Ha
Day trip to Palanque, Agua Azul and Misol-Ha
From the hostel it is only 20 minutes to Palanque. Once in the park, we pass a pricey looking hotel, cafeteria and a spectacular museum. Unlike Tikal or Yaxchilán the drop off is only a few blocks from the temple doors rather than a half an hour trudge the bushes. Everything about this magnificent park compares favorably to the more rugged, underfunded Tikal. The paths are even flat and freshly graveled.
There was still a fog when I entered the grand plaza. The short lived mist added a spiritual patina to the grandeur of the key structures. After a cursory look at a dim room on the south acropolis, I climbed into the more distant grand Palace. It has a tiered tower (perhaps used as an observatory) that is proportioned as if it were designed in 15th century Florence. This castle is pierced by “T” shaped windows looking into small rooms or hallways. From the top you can look back towards south acropolis and absorb the long spread of that high stepping confection –steeped in the style of Bonampak. From here, a long section of the working aqueduct can be seen containing a stream in reversed Mayan arches – 3’ deep; flat bottomed troughs; canted at 30 degrees. Water moves fast through the re-enforced but natural course and it will ultimately flow to falls near the lower groups. Down there spectacular Red Queen’s house cants over the luxurious cascade. (POSTED: No toe dipping allowed.)
Palanque’s ball court seems be the most perfectly located of any site; the space uniquely fulfills this mythological purpose: “Ball courts were conceived as entrances to the underworld, places of death and resurrection. They were ritual spaces where games necessary for life were performed… Celestial bodies were thought to descend at dusk to the underworld, the region of skeletal beings where they fought and vanquished forces of darkness.” Looking north across the courts from one of the stumpy older temples (400 AD) it is easy to imagine the site building up around this fulcrum between the Palace group and the mystic falls.
After three hours I raced through the museum and was glad to ride to Agua Azul. We would stop long enough to catch the spray before moving on to the swimming hole at Misol-Ha.
No one seemed invited by the rocky pool downstream from the gorgeous falls. But, I was. It was the perfect space to relax. Aside from the battalion of automatic totting soldiers in camo, it could have been any Sunday in the park. Families and lovers played in the water and ate at the picnic tables or in small, open restaurants. I was almost out of Pesos so I nursed a beer and dunked in and out. Upriver, the short falls were a delight – bubbling soda on the rocks since eternity began.
It was a short drive and a little wait to connect with the San Cristobal de las Casas fancy bus; two movies and a few stops later, we arrived at 10PM.
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Mexican Ruins – Chiapas – Yaxchilán and Bonampak
Colectivo hopping from San Cristobal de las Casas
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Mexican Ruins – Chiapas – Yaxchilán and Bonampak
By the Rio Usumacinta, Mexican soldiers inspected trucks and waved us on. Five miles back, at the frontier passengers had been consolidated and redistributed from vans into liner buses and vice versa. The drivers gracefully coordinated cross border travelers and would continue to smooth (and seemingly “protect”) their way with cellphones and CBs – using common technology to create flexible exchanges at crossroads or strategic diners. I was bound for ruins twenty five miles up the river from here but was not clear about booking possibilities. So, I would triangulate through San Cristobal de las Casas and from there I could select -from among many options. I took a blissfully un-airconditioned bus ($80 vs $125 Pesos) and schlepped six hours farther North. Once in Palanque, tours were very available for the all day trip to Yaxchilán and Bonampak.
A 12 person group to la Selva Lacandona* starts out at around 6AM. (*the term Lacan Tun is derived from ACAN (stand or setup) TUN (precious stones or idols) – This is according to Danish explorer, Franz Blom still others prefer “piedra enmedio del agua” – Stone in Water
Life is lived along the road bordering the river
people have been out for a while by dawn
… preparing foods: feeding stoves with wood and charcoal; BB’queing lunch in the early cool
… already sitting astride horses or in lawn chairs watching the sky, cows and kids
… some meticulously sweep up or paint stairs desperately shoo-ing chickens
Few approach and fewer wave because this parade happens everyday
All along the white line dogs loll sleeping protected by speed-bumps
bump
Brahmas’ chomp in the shade
bump
Segments of smooth pipes wait to guide creeks and rivulets under bridges built in the grass
And, after a while, there’s a valley of mossy mounds
What? random 5-10 story lumps?
“No. they are not more ruins,” he says.
Bump
The ticket includes a quick breakfast buffet
– tortillas, coffee, eggs, orange juice
After a few more miles we come to the covered launches
It was a pleasant be motoring on muffled currents of murky Jade
we skimmed by forests and an occasional camp…
…remote thunderheads
…hummingbirds
… maybe crocodiles
Yaxchilán’s upland buildings are concealed by foliage and the larger group is “sunken” away from the dock. Flora billows wildly shadng everything into mystery – except the simply divinable signage. The map shows the lower site compact and dense like Cahal Pech and with the upper group this park covers almost three times as much area. The place was already hot so, we opted to do the more forbidding upper group – making the climb to the upper acropolis while it is still a bit cool. The vertical mountain path discordantly echoes the stairs featured in the architecture. Of course, the path’s irregular and double high “risers” make for tough going and become more so farther up. Treading rough stairs made of slippery rock and snag-ly root is the stuff of adrenaline On this incline, I seriously wondered (again) if the short-legged Mayans would install temporary half-steps with rope railings if only for holidays and special sacrifices.
Not much is visible until two thirds the way up but then the sight of neatly stone stairs lends motivation to claw on breathlessly. The higher building’s outer walls are strewn about but the stable stone floors support the less than 6′ doorways; so, the overhead carvings are so low that you stoop to see the auto-sacrificing courtesans displaying their loyalty. (That would be: dropping blood from their tongue piercing ritual onto paper – to be incensed, later.)
We descend from this extreme acropolis to follow hallways etched into a mossy hill. This skinny way is braced by stout Mayan vaults and the dead end chambered cloister is sheltering…. bats. I skibbled up the next, least slippery looking lump and came upon ruins stamped squarely into manicured fields – marching orthogonal for blocks. Alas, we had too little time left when we got to the main area.
After a quick but nice lunch we arrived at Bonampak where you must hire a Lacandon man to walk any group around the site. The “Hagh Winik” Mayas maybe be from Yucatan and Guatemala and are famous for resisting the conquistadors; they call themselves the “True people.” The male guides have pony tails, wear sandals, white calf-length gowns and carry thin mashed wood shoulder bags. This site is known for elaborate ceiling and wall panels but these are not really readable. Detailed paintings decorated a tight stone building a little bit longer than it is high -20′x15′x 8′. It is so tight that only 3 or 4 people at a time are permitted. We were prepared to see the 200 guests attending the wedding party. It is said that the illustrations had “depth and perspective” and some may guests may be displaying “hand signals.” But, the fuzzy representation that our guide unfurled from his bag did not help. He coached us on the “Alliance” of Chan Maun II and Lady Rabbit of Yaxchilán and how Bomampak’s warriors had defeated their distant neighbors. I can vividly imagine Lady Rabbit’s procession trudging inland to this location with the high palaces and the thin stellae. That trip would have covered the same distance that we had driven and boated in three modern hours. This mighty site has been active since the late 1940′s when United Fruit sent a film crew to document it.
The all day tour was really arduous. Next time I will eliminate the four hours of round trip travel by staying at one of the local cabins or camps between Yaxchilán and Bonampak. I know that tour vans pick up and deliver from there, too.
photos by Norma Valdez
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Chiapas – romping, stomping and chomping
Day trip to Palanque, Agua Azul and Misol-Ha
Colectivo hopping from San Cristobal de las Casas
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