Mayan Body Memory

It wasn't until the second time that Herb and I visited Cancun, that we decided to visit the Mayan temple of Chizen-Itza. It was now or never. The top of the tall pyramid shaped temple with a long, steep and straight flight of stairs on each face, would be closing for public access in the next month. If we did not go now, we would not ever be allowed to do the climb to the top.

Due to my own impatience with guided group bus tours, we rented a jeep. I preferred the open air of the jeep, to the air-conditioned confined and crowded tour buses. I loved the dual roles of map-reader / copilot, and my energy increased anticipating an adventure.

We left Cancun taking the toll highway 180, (There is a parallel 180 which has no tolls and goes through little villages. One of the largest of which is Valladolid, east of Chizen-Itza, where the gold being sold in Cancun is purchased.) The sun beat down relentlessly with an intensity that is not known in New England, where we had come from. It reflected off of the highway making it impossible for me to not wear sunglasses. It was a straight two lane paved road with occasional dirt driveways and paths to either side. It was only by paying attention to the trip milage that we realized that most of the dirt driveways and paths were roads to villages. Rather than being marked with names or numbers, most were marked with various combinations of non-biodegradable trash items. The items would vary from tires to red, white, blue or yellow detergent bottles, or rusting metal objects. We joked about how it must be to give directions in the area... "Turn left at the two red tide bottles below the tire."

We drove for over an hour. The only other vehicles on the road, beside two tour buses, were various open backed pick-up trucks over-flowing with riders in the back, all standing and stuffed in like sardines. It was obvious that there was no such thing as child seat, or safety belt, laws, let alone concerns. Earlier, we had discussed the differences in Mexican automotive safety standards with a Boston area Foreign Car dealer. The differences were more than just the windshields.

Looking at the passing countryside vegetation, I fell in love with it, knowing that to live here, I would have to live close to a natural water hole, where the vegetation was more lush. Butterflies danced along the solid wall of trees that lined both sides of the highway.

We finally saw the signs for the approaching toll booth. I was looking for the exact amount in pesos, when I heard Herb say, "Whoa, holy shit." I quickly looked up to see armed guards at each toll entry. Despite the chill that flew up my spine, I joked, "I guess that they are there in case anyone tries to drive through without paying." It was one of the few signs of being outside of the United States that I would never become fully comfortable with due to my personal dislike of guns.

We drove through and paid our toll without a problem and continued a short distance to the exit for Piste. As soon as we got off of the highway, we were on a small paved road which took us through the heart of Piste before it went by the temple of Chitzen-itza. The the roads had close gravel shoulders and each village contained many topas (speed bumps) where congregations of children holding out their wares, desperately tried to get us to stop. The open jeep gave the small salesmen the hope that they could slow us down. It became obvious that the adults assigned the selling the the youngest members of the family, knowing that it is harder to say "no" to an adorable child with big hungry eyes. Because of my own knowledge that there were too many for me to "be fair" and buy from each, we continued without stopping.

We arrived at the temple parking area and walked up to the entrance, which naturally had a small shopping area for local merchants to market wares nearby. Inside the primary entry building was a wealth of mayan information and some beautiful examples of archeological finds from the area. As usual, we avoided the guided tours and set off on our own.

The large temple that is easily identifiable as Chitzen-itza is just a small part of the preserved remainders of this once thriving Mayan hub of activity. It was once a busy city to one side of the temple, beginning by a large stone wall, the remnants of which still remain. There is a miniature version of the large pyramid directly in front of the primary flight of stairs on the large temple and the infamous ball court is on the opposite side of the two temples from the city.

First, we wandered around what had been the city. By the remaining stone, it was clear that Chitzen-itza had thrived in it's day. We decided to save climbing the temple for last and headed to the ball court.

The playing field in the ball court was surprisingly large, with walls that seemed to be two stories tall. Although I had seen pictures and had read descriptions, I was shocked by the height of the stone circles that players were to get the eight pound balls to pass through. I was also struck that the holes were not much larger than the balls, making accuracy critical. Many of the stone carvings still showed incredible detail for the time they had endured the elements.

I stood in the center of the court imagining the spectators in their assigned seats. King Kulkulkan had his seat of honor at one end of the court. At the opposite end, sat the wealthy merchants. The wall farthest from the temples was were the rest of the villagers would gather on the grass and gravel ground that was level with the top of the wall, and view the game looking down. This also gave them the important view into the top alcove in the "Temple of the Jaguars," which created the fourth wall of the court. It was in this alcove, that the head of the captain, of the previous winning team, was kept on display to oversee the games until the next captain's head would replace it.

Considering that the games would last for days, my preconceived notions of self-preservation and depth of faith were intellectually challenged. I over-heard the conversations of some other American tourist's who were traveling with a guided group, and they appeared incapable of grasping the concept at all. As though in denial, they said, "No way, it had to be the captain of the losing team." I picked up a small stone on the ground in front of King Kulkulkan's seat, and walked with Herb toward the tall temple, thinking about the depth of faith within the Mayan culture, whether or not I found a bit convoluted.

When I finally arrived at the foot of the temple stairs, I was overwhelmed by the size of the structure. It towered in front of me like an angled sky-scraper. I followed the example of the other visitors, and climbed up the stairs using my hands, and leaning forward, almost hugging the stairs as I got near the top.

We had climbed the side closest to the ball court, and when I arrived at the top I saw that there was a room that passes through the structure on top. Not quite ready to see the height from the approximately four foot ledge around the top structure, I entered the room. It passed straight through with an open space to the back side creating a small room.

On the floor, in the back corner of the room, I saw a small dog. There are many dogs running around the Yucatan Peninsula, and all but the few that have come with their transplanted foreign owners, appear to be from the same gene pool. I was immediately curious about how this little guy had made it up there, and even more curious about how he would eventually get down. It made me concerned about how long he had been there hiding from the heat of the sun. I spoke to him with some eye contact and he appeared receptive and friendly. I walked closer until I was within a couple of feet from him, bent down and emptied my water bottle in two indentations in the floor. He immediately repositioned his body and began drinking the water. Knowing this was all that I could do at this moment, I told him that he was a good boy and continued to explore, making a mental note to mention him to an employee when I saw one.

I stood and continued toward the exit on the opposite side of the passage. It opened to what would have been an ariel view of the remaining remnants of the city. The ledge was only about four feet wide and stirred butterflies in my stomach. I walked around the ledge enjoying the view of the horizon across the tops of the trees. From this view, I could see how the wall by the village was perfectly placed for dramatic effect during ceremonies. It is placed in such a manner than on the summer solstice the alignment of the sun and stairs casts the shadow of an undulating snake, descending the temple stairs, on the wall.

Despite the beautiful and expansive views, I kept feeling my attention drawn to the smaller temple. From this elevation, I had a clear view of the entire top of the small structure which stood in perfect alignment with the immense flight of stairs descending in front of me. I shivered, as I imagined various human sacrificial rituals being performed on the apparent stage below. It seemed so obvious to me that it made me nervous and I tried unsuccessfully to divert my attention.

There was a small room, not visible from the ground, and not connected to the passage. I thought that it was most likely where the king waited as the procession passed in front of him, then he could come to view of the people below, and watch the rituals.

Herb and I took a couple of the required "I was here," snapshots, and prepared to descend.

On the front flight of stairs, the side looking at the small temple, a rope had been attached. Everyone used this rope to crawl slowly, backwards down the long expanse. It was important to be able to use the ball of the foot on the stairs. The steps were only half the width of normal stairs. I am a women's size 8 and only half of my foot would fit. The rise was also unusually high, about four inches taller than a normal stair. It made for an awkward combination. I had held a nervous fear of the trip down since I had begun climbing in the first place.

There was finally only one person in front of me to use the rope, and I suddenly stepped out of line. I walked over to the middle of the flight of stairs and straightened my spine, centering the weight of my backpack with my body's core.

I no conscious thought or plan of what I was doing. My body had taken over.

Herb asked me what I was doing and I simply said, "I can do this."

In retrospect, I jokingly credit the couple of elementary school years that I took tap and ballet... I rotated my feet outward and took a step down, using my thighs and bending my knees to right angles. I took one step after another and immediately developed a rhythm that flowed. I was afraid to think too much about what I was doing for fear that it would disrupt the flow. As I proceeded down the center of the flight of stairs, I could envision an entire procession of costumed mayans descending these stairs in this very manner. I suddenly realized that the visual image would be astounding. It would appear as if the actual serpent form of King Kulkulkan was coming down from above.

When Herb and I met up on the ground, he said, "How did you do that? That was the weirdest thing that I have ever seen!"

All that I could respond was, "I don't know."

Later, when I looked up the name of the smaller temple, I was not surprised to learn that it was called "the Temple of Venus." We wandered around a little longer, found an employee and mentioned the dog, and then hopped into the jeep for our return drive to Cancun, this time taking the non-toll road.

Even now, years later, I am not sure what it was that I experienced at Chitzen-itza.