More than a tourist trap

If truth be know, I always prefer to describe myself as a traveller. It sounds so much more intrepid and exciting than that other T word. But let’s face – whatever my preference, I am still very much a tourist, and like every other tourist I happily trot off to see all of the tourist attractions. Red Square, Berlin Wall, Chichen Itza; tick, tick, tick. I’ve come to accept the crowds and the cameras, and enjoyed many a ubiquitous guided tour.

But every now and then, there’s a tourist attraction that surpasses expectations. It becomes more than just a guided tour, it becomes a memorable experience. That is what happened for me at the Actun Tunichil Muknal cave just outside of San Ignacio, Belize.

San Ignacio was not in our original travel plans, but we heard so much about this cave from other travellers that we decided a detour was in order. I’m so glad we did.

The ATM cave system was used heavily by the Mayans for many ceremonies and rituals; it’s chambers and ledges are littered with ancient ceramics and the remains of human sacrifices. To see them involved first a 40 minute hike through the Tapir Mountain Nature Reserve, to the cave mouth, and then another two hours swimming and scrambling through the caves. The scrambling, swimming and climbing was always going to win me over but what took this tour beyond merely another show-and-tell was our guide, Martin. Of Mayan descent, he spoke with such eloquence and pride about his ancestors that you couldn’t help but be moved by his words.

At one point he had us turn off our headlamps and walk single file – one hand placed on the shoulder of the person in front – through the cave in the dark. I cannot stress how dark it was – you could not see your hand in front of your face. And then – as we waded through the waist-deep water in the black – Martin began to sing a Mayan prayer which echoed all around the chamber. It was truly beautiful moment.

Soon afterwards he took us to some rock formations which he – after leading tours through the cave for years and years – had learned to “play”. Tapping gently on different parts of the stalectities, he was able to create a rippling melody that left everyone amazed and delighted.

When it came to explaining the significance of the relics, Martin again had all the knowledge. He told us the stories of Maya – how they lived, who they worshipped, what this cave meant to them. He told us the stories of the human sacrifices – including the Crystal Maiden – who willingly gave up their lives for their beliefs. What I loved about him was that he would give you the official explanation – devised by learned anthropologists – and then he would tell you what he thought. His interpretations often made as much sense – if not more – than all the academic theories.

The tour left us quite exhausted – four hours hiking, swimming and climbing will do that to you. But it also left us with the distinct knowledge that we had just visited a holy place, as holy as any church or mosque that you may care to step into. It was a cave and it was a tour, but at the end of the day it was also a very spiritual experience.

When is a church not a church?

I’ve stepped inside many a church in my time. Living so close to continental Europe for so many years I was lucky enough to see many of the grandest churches going around – The Vatican, Notre Dame, Berlin Cathedral. I’ve even be known to bow my head and offer a prayer of thanks (though I’m still not entirely convinced anyone was listening).

However, I’ve never been so delighted to step inside a church as I was went I visited the Catholic Church of San Juan Chamula. It’s in a Mayan village, just outside the Mexican town of San Cristobal (which is worth a visit just to look at the ambar in the jewellery stores – amazing stuff).

On the outside, San Juan is a very very ordinary and rather run down Catholic Church. Anything but impressive. However, I now absolutely adore this church.

When you step inside however you quickly see this is no ordinary Catholic Church. Sunshine pours in through the windows, on to a concrete floors which is void of any pews or any place to sit. Instead the floor is covered in masses of pine needles and lumps of wax, from the hundreds of tiny candles that are stuck to the floor. Bunches and bunches of marigolds are placed at the feet of the icons of various saints, along with the odd shot of mezcal and packet of cigarettes. To top it off, our guide reassured me that mass hasn’t been said here in more than 30 years.

It is the most un-church like church I’ve ever been inside. Our Mayan guide tried to explain how this place came to be, and how the Mayan belief system has reconciled itself with Christianity. I really hope I don’t mangle the Mayan beliefs of the local people in my summary…. When the Spanish came to this town they razed the existing Mayan temple, a place of offering to the Mayan Gods. In its place they built the Catholic Church, and began preaching this new religion. But the Mayan attitude to the introducted religion was perhaps unexpected by the Spanish; it went something like this:

“We have heard about your God. You revere your God like we revere our Gods. You pray to your God like we pray to our Gods. Your God is the source of all light and life, as are our Gods. In our minds, they are equal. They are the same. The temple you razed was a place of offering, the church you built is also a church of offering. We may use the name of your God, and kneel in your church, but it really makes no difference what we call him or where we kneel, because they are the same. We will always be worshipping our Gods.”

Like the temple that stood before it, it remains a place of offering. Along with offering prayers to Mayan and Christian Gods, the Maya people come here for traditional healing. So local shaman come here to conduct ceremonies which involve rubbing eggs on peoples’ bodies and sometimes even the sacrifice of a chickens. So here, in this tiny town, is a Catholic Church which is barely a church at all.

I love this church, I love knowing that places like this have survived, and that the descendants of this conquered race can still find ways to keep their culture alive.

An education in all things Maya

Before starting this trip I knew next to nothing about the Maya, save the fact that they a) lived a long time ago in Mexico and b) Mel Gibson made a movie about them. Given I hadn’t even seen the movie, that really left me with just point a). And even that isn’t strictly correct.

 

If you believe the textbook stereotypes, the Maya were a violent race who followed many bloodthirsty traditions involving human sacrifice. But once you learn about this warrior race, it’s hard not to develop an appreciation and even an admiration for them. Their feats of architecture and engineering, for example, easily rival that of the ancient Egyptians. Wandering around and climbing on the ruins of Palenque and Chichen Itza in particular, I could only marvel at the immense temples, plazas, palaces and “ball game” arenas. Though they are just ruins today, it does not take a great leap of imagination to picture what they would have looked like centuries ago. Painted in shades of red, yellow and blue, decorated by row after row of fearsome-looking stone carvings, these structures would have been nothing short of awe-inspiring.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Not only were they impressive architects, the Maya were also amazing astronomers and mathematicians. The Mayan calendar tracks a cycle of more than 5000 years – 5126 to be exact – and within this includes a series of intricate sub-calendars that track the sun, the moon, other planets, crop cycles, and a whole host of events that have practical and cultural significance. The calendar was in turn used to design buildings – Chichen Itza, for example, is a perfect testament to this calendar. It’s complexity is astounding and I personally can’t even begin to fathom how they came up with this. But then maths was never my forte.

The Mayan calendar does in fact “run out” on December 21, 2012 which has obviously led to various wild predictions of the end of the world, and of course, several bad Hollywood movies. If any of you are a bit nervous, let me reassure you that Hollywood is wrong. I have it on good authority that the only thing that happens is the cycle starts again. So don’t worry, there’s no need to cancel Christmas.

I can’t write a blog about the Maya without mentioning their ball game. Played by elite athletes, this game involved two teams, and the aim was to get a heavy rubber ball of about 30cm in diameter through a stone ring that was about 35cm in diameter and several metres off the ground – without using your hands. Feet, knees, chest and elbows only. Today’s soccer players have nothing on these guys. At the end of each game there was a sacrifice to the Gods, and depending on which city you lived, that sacrifice might be the winners or the losers. At Chichen Itza it was the winners who were sacrificed, as it was believed their “strong blood” would please the Gods and ensure a good harvest. I was fairly convinced that such a “reward” would see lots of athletes throwing the game, but no, apparently to be sacrificed was the greatest honour you could recieve. Still, I’m a bit sceptical.

As a side note, though I am lauding their intelligence, there was one theory that our guide told us about why Chichen Itza was abandoned that did make me pause. This city was supplied with water by a series of underground streams, which were linked to the Sagrado Cenote, a massive sinkhole. Often the bodies of human sacrifices were thrown into this cenote, to please the Gods. Except at some point, the water started going bad….and the Mayans took this to mean the Gods were displeased with them…and felt the only way to remedy this was to sacrifice even more humans and throw them into the cenote. Unsurprisingly, the water eventually went so bad that they had to abandon Chichen Itza, or so the theory goes. Where is a good public health officer when you need one, eh?

It is obviously impossible for me to describe everything I have learned about the Maya. They were artists, performers, linguists, engineers, farmers, town planners, mathematicians, astronomers, and yes, warriors. They were both fearsome and beautiful, which makes their decline at the hands of the Spanish all the more tragic.