A sunrise over the great pyramid of Tikal
The alarm clock rang when it wasn't even early, in the middle of a slow night in which we slept fitfully. It was a sleepover that caused the procession of devotees of the Black Christ of Esquipulas, in Guatemala, on the island of flowers. The inhabitants spend the day and night launching powerful firecrackers in a procession in which they dance and sing through the streets without anything disturbing that primitive desire, religious or secular, to have a reason to escape. The town does not sleep for a week and we, the visitors, neither.
But that day we had decided to go see the sunrise at the great pyramid of Tikal. We were summoned at three in the morning in the hall of the Hotel Isla de las Flores. We got into a van with other travelers scattered around other small hotels in this secluded place in the world surrounded by fresh water, nice, beautiful and calm, converted into the door of the Mayan world. Tikal is the image of what the great Mesoamerican civilization achieved: create cities in the middle of the jungle.
On the way everyone sleeps and I take the opportunity to talk to the guide who tells me that a huge case of corruption has been uncovered with these night excursions in which administrators and guards were associated to keep the money from the tickets. The way they were caught does not fail, the ego of man is international. The new manager was surprised by two things: that an excursion attended by dozens of tourists who later upload their photos to social networks had a minimal record of visits and that the guards had cars and sneakers that cost more than their salaries. The result is several incarcerated and a process of entering the compound somewhat slower. The staff's shoes also got worse..
The result is several incarcerated and a process of entering the compound somewhat slower
Once you enter the park there is absolutely nothing. They offer coffee in a dimly lit with light and mobile room you start walking through thick vegetation. Nature when not seen is heard and it is there when it is almost more fascinating. After a long path we reach the staircase of the so-called Temple IV.
Nothing is still distinguishable when we begin to climb a pyramid that was part of a Mayan city of the classic period, between 200 and 900 dC, and that archaeologists believe that it dominated all of Mesoamerica, including Mayan territories of present-day southern Mexico and, even, had commercial contacts with the civilization and city of Teotihuacán, enclave near present-day Mexico City. The toponymy of the name may be a derivation of Ti ak`al, which in Mayan means "water well", although they explain to us that some researchers point to another Mayan dialect in whose meaning Tikal would be "place of languages", perhaps referring to that nerve center of the Mayan world that was this place.
climb through history, in the midst of absolute darkness and listening to the roar of the jungle, It is a unique experience that sometimes as travelers we do not value. On the trip it is necessary to stop for a second to measure what is lived. Tourism has some termite, to complete experiences that are enjoyed in the after. In the now one suffers to sublimate it in the tomorrow of a conversation and some photos. None of us who were there had slept and, however, It seems that we did not stop doing it at that special moment.
Next to us were people meditating, silent, staring into a darkness that vanished under the thunderous sound of howler monkeys
Up, in the upper part of the so-called temple of the double-headed serpent, the 70 meters high, allowing it to stand out from the treetops, we sat down with a few dozen people to wait for dawn to come. Next to us were people meditating, silent, staring into a darkness that vanished under the thunderous sound of howler monkeys. the jungle creaked, overnight, the morning that slipped by while we remained perched on those ancient rocks in the midst of complete human silence.
And suddenly there was a gray clarity in which the tops of the trees began to be glimpsed between a sky without nuances. And everyone was silent. And we watch the horizon expecting to see the violets, sunrise yellows and oranges. And the breathing of the others was heard. And the dim light was occupying everything, and we discovered a jungle where there was only noise before. And the hours of waiting, the cameras prepared to capture the reddish light coloring the day and the prayers to the father sun were suddenly diluted, almost comically.
The prayers collapsed, the voices of complaints began…
a man climbed, he clapped his hands three times and shouted: "Well, today there will be no dawn, is cloudy. Those of the group in English can go down to start their visit, the rest can wait ten minutes and go to the meeting point with your guide”. The prayers collapsed, the voices of complaint began, and the man regained his essence between the anger of some and the regret of others.
and the mayan world, Sun, the feathered-headed serpents and the jaguars that roamed the clouds, were diluted with a resounding slap of reality. All that troop of adventurers, meditators and professional photographers suddenly become "clients". However, there are times in life, at least during that hour and a half that we crossed a jungle and climbed some legendary stones to dream of seeing the world be born, that it is worth accepting our status as tourists. Without protest, without pretending to be anything other than privileged guys who paid a few dozen dollars to climb a Mayan pyramid to wait for sunrise.
