THE ROUTE OF THE MAYAN - 2007

Joya de Ceren, dated 600 AD, was fascinating. It had once been a town for the common Mayan . . . not the royals or priests or scribes.   Joya de Ceren, which is not far from the foot of a volcano, had been buried by ash.   In short, my first discovery on this trip was that the Mayans preceded the Incas and Aztecs. I'd already known that they built wonderful cities and disappeared.   True, some survived and are now the indigenous people of Central America, but the Mayan royals, scribes, and scientists, the Mayan library of accumulated knowledge, all but the most elementary record has totally disappeared.   One wonders how and why such an advanced culture, one that could build such magnificent cities, cities that dot many areas of Central America and the Yucatan peninsula could have simply disappeared.   

After a lake front lunch, we crossed the border, entered Honduras and were soon to arrive at a charming cobblestone town within minutes of the fabulous Copan ruins.

The site, which was huge, turned out to be the most elaborate of our trip, but we didn't know what that really meant until we saw it all.

The earliest date of this Mayan city is yet to be discovered.  It seems, whether because of flood, or volcano, or earthquake, it was rebuilt time and time again.  The archeologists are still uncovering layer upon layer of historical levels and have yet to find the bottom.  At any rate, there is plenty that meets the eye above ground. The carved stones you see in the photo commemorate several rulers. There are other examples which stand in the plaza and date back to 711 AD.  It is believed that the rulers represented here ruled nearer the end of life in Copan than the beginning but, as I said before, no one knows what happened, only that the people who lived in this complex disappeared. All that is left is some pottery and whatever can be surmised from the carved stone.

We had a full day at Copan. The site was large, beautiful and built on many levels.

We returned to the hotel, fully spent. After a night on the town (dinner at a local restaurant), we slept, refreshed and woke up to our next objective . . . going through another border and crossing into Guatemala.

When you enter the Guatemalan city of Antigua, the bump cobblestone streets strike you first, next is that they are bordered by sidewalks and walls . . . all different colors walls . . . but walls.  You could never guess whether beauty or poverty lay behind them.  You would only know if you stepped over a high threshold, and took a few steps passed doors that are cut into 8 inch thick walls to have any idea at all.  So, when we crossed over the threshold of our hotel, which from the street I thought of as a dive, we were transfixed.  The paintings surrounding the courtyard, the garden filled with well placed antiques, the hanging plants cleverly placed,  and the wood and stone construction all together made for a beautiful environment.  Antigua was classy and the classiest most upscale place we would be.  One could easily say that Antigua is to Guatemala as the Hamptons are to New York. Its a place rich city folk go for weekends.  Happily, we were there for three nights.  

Going to the overlook and seeing Antigua spread out before us, visiting a macadamia farm visit and taking its tour were wonderful activities, but it was the visit to the school that captivated me most.

I don't know if is that I was a teacher or that I love kids, but that morning at the school was the highlight of the trip for me.

The kids met us as we got off the bus, welcomed us, took our hands and led us to their classroom where every wonderful human quality ever expressed in language was written on a card in Spanish and English and was dangling from the ceiling.

Their teacher welcomed us, speaking slowly and deliberately. I guess he was giving Billy a chance to translate. The kids sung their national anthem (the longest song you've ever heard) and then three boys and three girls, all 5th graders, did three folk dances (with costume changes) while we sat, comfortably watching.

The students had questions and with our nod, asked us what was on their mind.  Their number one questions was how old were we. We laughed . . . and told. Then they wanted to know where we were from and what we did.  We answered all their questions and asked some our own. I was warmed to hear that the children from this small, unsophisticated village aspired to be teachers, doctors, engineers, artists, and lawyers.

The trip gave us another taste of everyday life among the Mayans.   The market was thriving. The people were colorfully dressed. There were lots of people in church and lots just going about their marketing.

Taking that bus ride was another highlight for me. We were with people, traveling on a Sunday, three generations sat behind us, welcoming our pictures and trying to communicate. The people were so friendly and open that I couldn't help feeling that if they could spread their good will around the world there would be no more war.

Amen to that! 

Afterwards we spent the afternoon exploring the upscale establishments of Antigua. We had an evening of wonderful food and drink. And then we left for the highlands and Lake Atitlan.   We were in for a colorful few days.  People in their everyday dress were far more colorful then the buildings in their towns.

I dare anyone to tell me that they ever saw an animal while flying through the air on that cable.

You see, you are gliding on a cable. The only way of breaking your momentum, the only way of slowing down is to use a gloved hand to pull on the cable. At our rate of decent, we moved too quickly to focus on anything. In short, about all we saw was the top of the trees and a panoramic view if we had the time to look.

Given our instructions, "Look for the green flag so you will know when to stop," you don't imagine that we looked at anything else, do you?

No one wanted to err. It was the green flag we looked for. Stopping was what we were focused on.

The next two days were uninspiring.  We took a long ride to Guatemala city, saw their prestigious National Palace and Central Square . . . more stately than San Salvador's. . . slept a couple of hours and took a pre-dawn trip to the airport for a flight to the Isles of Flores.  The reason for our being at the Isles of Flores was not for their flowers.  There were none.  But the Isles of Flores gave us the closest entry point to Tikkal, another fabulous Mayan site.  

Thank you Florence Buschke and Betty Fink for sending me copies of photos from our shared journey. Among my activities on this trip, I managed to reformat my camera therebye losing 450 pictures taken over twelve of our fourteen day adventure.