When I got back to my room that night, since the upstairs rooms were all open to the balcony with those beautiful turned wood barred windows, I overheard young people talking about Agua. I checked in with them and found that it was the threesome that I had encountered with the guy sick on the mountainside.
Unlike me, when he recovered they came to the cone and found a place where there was a break in the steep ash sides and a trail leading into the crater. The crater was filled with a cloud, but they could hear a lot of shouting going on. Suddenly, the cloud parted and they could see the Army. Apparently there on high-altitude training, playing soccer and others, off on the side, playing chess at tables. They told me there was a small chapel at the end of the soccer field. I could imagine weddings held in that chapel. Made me wish that I had seen it. I didn't hear a thing when I was there but the two guys I saw with the Jeep were definitely Army.
I encountered George again, he told me that the whole group had driven back to San Antonio that day because the girl we were originally looking for had returned from the States and they held a big party for everyone. Made me wish that I had gone along on that foray. But I told George what I had done and told him that I was going the next day to Tikal and, "Would you like to come along?" Once again, he told me that he couldn't. As the driver for the group, he had to do what Gay was doing.
The next morning, having learned from my experience the day before, I slept in later and had a breakfast before catching the next bus to Guatemala City at 8 am. If didn't tell you before, let me tell you that those buses seemed to be rather independently owned and run like cabs. They would place a destination sign, like Guatemala City, in the space at the top of the bus in front, and then run down certain allowed streets of a town like Antigua, looking for fares before heading out and then picking up and dropping off fares along the way, mostly going to market in Guatemala City.
On this particular morning, I saw two buses racing to pick up a fare. Each bus had a guy in the open doorway who would yell out ahead and try to get people at the side of the road to jump aboard and take their money for how far they were going. It was a very efficient public system where one did not have to wait very long at all to get a ride.
The ride was uneventful, but I knew where to get off before the bus turned off the main highway at the entrance to the airport. I soon picked up another bus going into the airport. I don't recall how much I spent for various parts of the trip, but everything was on the cheap and that made it all possible, including this tour, the most expensive at $90 for a flight in to Tikal, a tour while there, and the return flight.
We boarded an older DC 6 prop plane for the flight. The first thing I noticed was how spacious it was with large seats like first-class seats, only two on either side of the aisle and plenty of legroom in front of each seat. The plane was only about one quarter full. There was open seating and I got a window seat, was pleased with the large squared off windows compared with the jets I had flown on with their small, oval shaped windows and cramped seating.
The flight was very smooth with the buzz of the engines as we flew over endless jungle about at the level of puffy white clouds, I could see the pilot and copilot at the helm behind a curtain that was pulled back so that I could look right out through the front windshield, seeing what they were seeing. A beautiful day to fly.
The flight was quite short, only about 100 miles or so to the north just west of Belize. When we arrived at Tikal, through those magnificent windows it was easy to see the pyramids sticking up out of the forest in a way that made them easier to find than some of the other sites found later. Our pilot flew low and slow all around the site, sometimes turning the plane on its side for even a better view of the massive stone pyramids. Some of the black water stained peaks still avoiding being covered by trees and vines after hundreds of years.
The next treat was landing on a dirt runway with the dust flying up all around. I really felt like I was on an adventure when that happened, truly in Central America the way it used to be all over in jungle movies of my youth. We were treated to a lunch at the Jungle Lodge. For more money I could have stayed overnight and enjoyed some of the ambience of a bamboo and cornstalk place with outdoor showers and other jungle accoutrements. Perhaps night tours of jungle sights and sounds.
There was a small museum where some of the artifacts found were displayed. Ornate glyph covered bowls, jade, silver and copper necklaces and implements. Small amulets and figures of stone, terra-cotta and jade. The high point of the museum were the bones of a Mayan chieftain who was decked out in lots of green jade, and silver and gold jewelry befitting his rank. Much more had been looted, but I found what I saw impressive. the source of the jade was the nearby Motagua River basin that ran from the Guatemalan highlands in the West, eastward to the Gulf of Honduras.
The group of us on the tour met our tour guide, Carolina Joe. He was young, in his early twenties, with long blonde hair and a banana boat hat, making him reminiscent of Indiana Jones. We learned some interesting facts about Tikal on our way to the Grand Plaza. The site had been discovered in 1932 by air because the tops of the pyramids rose up above the surrounding jungle. The site had been excavated by the University of Pennsylvania from 1955 to 1964 and only about 6 mi.² or one fourth of the whole complex had been cleared. Massive trees and their roots that grew over the ruins had nearly reclaimed them in the time since it was abandoned about 900 A.D.
At that time the exact reason for the abandonment was not known, but there is reason to believe that when the weather changed, water for the crops, primarily corn, dried up and the ruling families practiced ritual sacrifice, and perhaps, cannibalism, according to the glyphs everywhere, that often failed and the Mayan civilization waxed and waned as a result. Later, several other huge complexes, further north in the Yucatán Peninsula, were found to be older and linked by highways raised up from the swampy lowlands. These complexes are yet to be fully explored and excavated. Central America has a long list of failed Mesoamerican civilizations going back to before the Olmec from before 500 BC.
At the Plaza we walked to the north side and climbed the palace that had been determined to be the home of the ruling family. Climbing up, I realized that the steps were very steep and the edges of the steps were very sharp. After climbing the volcano the day before where I felt fine, I felt very uneasy with no handholds or railings as we reached the higher elevations where people lived and probably demonstrated their power by lavish feathered dress and speeches every day to people in the Plaza below.
I stayed there longer than some of the others who left after Joe's description of the various monuments surrounding the Plaza. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a spider monkey swinging through the trees behind us. It was unique to see wild animals free at a tourist site and not in a cage. Across the Plaza with our tour over, I saw older men and women climb the Temple of the Jaguar by using a steel cable that ran down the middle of the steps. Still, the way I felt about the steps, I decided not to try to climb up there, where people were thrown off as part of sacrificial rites. Not a pretty sight at all. And, I learned that people who played the ball game, a combination of handball and basketball with a very hard solid rubber ball that weighed about 9 pounds, were sometimes sacrificed if they lost the game. Similar to the gladiator games of Rome.
Those of us on our tour returned to the plane. But as I was walking out I passed the green Plymouth station wagon of the schoolteacher and her family. It was all mud splattered from the rugged drive in on roads that were not only pockmarked with potholes, but sometimes flooded badly this time of the year. But it was still dry when we took off and the dust of the runway roiled in spirals under the propellers as we once again flew out of the jungle like it was the 1930s.
At the airport, I picked up a bus or cab to take me to the main road, about 2 miles. But the driver did not stop or didn't understand me and I ended up at the bus station in downtown Guatemala City. There was nothing much to see along the bus/cab route except a very crowded, smelly and rather rundown and earthquake damaged metropolitan area that made me glad that I was going back to Antigua. Even with that delay, I arrived back in time to have dinner with my lady friends and they once again, marveled at the adventures I was having vicariously through me.
We returned to the airport and turned in the van. Somewhere along the way, George told me that he had also climbed Agua while I was at Tikal. He was also alone because Gay refused to go with him. Like me, he had grown tired of markets and weaving. A couple weeks later, back in Morgantown, George surprised me with pictures that he took that mirrored my experience exactly. Unfortunately, although I have those pictures somewhere, I don't have them scanned to present here.
My trip to Guatemala made it all the more my thought to travel to other countries when I had a chance again.
Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
9/15/20
