Temple of the Wind, Tulum, on the Riviera Maya in Quintana Roo, Mexico. You can see a larger version of this shot here.

Part 1 of 2

The bride and I were supposed to be in Cancun last October. However, a Category 2 hurricane caused the trip to be canceled as it was projected to go right over our hotel. It didn't matter that it veered off into the Caribbean at the last minute, it was the safe thing to do to say sorry folks, you can't come. 

We were bummed. While I've spent quite a bit of time a bit further south in the mountains of Guatemala, I'd never been to the Yucatán except for refueling stops in Merida. The bride had been before, some 30 years ago back when Club Med was about the only thing going on in Cancun. She was there with five of her girlfriends at the same time I was abandoning my life on the coast north of San Diego in a compromise to be closer to her in Dallas. I was disappointed to miss the opportunity to get some photographs of the Riviera Maya, though millions of others have taken a billion or more photos before me—I wanted to take my own.

So it was a bit of a surprise, and a minor logistical miracle that everything got rescheduled for an end of January trip. Reworked hotel reservations, flights, excursion trips, spa appointments and conference speakers were reassembled. The trip was on again. 200 conference attendees descended into Cancun from all over the States and Canada. A Wednesday through Sunday business-cum-vacation wasn't the optimal length of time for me to do and see all I wanted, but it was nice to get out of town as the Arctic Express was about to hit the Dallas/Fort Worth area with all its Canadian fury. In fact, we nearly missed our connection in Houston because our plane had to be de-iced at DFW—a rare occurrence at our airport.

The first two days were overcast and spritzing an occasional drizzle, but by Friday, we got this:

The view from the room.

The now ubiquitous infinity pool at resorts.

Sparkle-y tiles at pool bottom

Looking north beachside from the hotel. I was surprised at how uncrowded it all was. Since tourism is the only real industry in Cancun, I wonder if the travel advisories and drug wars have taken their toll on the Caribbean coast as well. From all reports, it's still very safe in Cancun and environs.

Equally deserted view to the south.

The hotel district in Cancun is relatively condensed so that a short stroll will bring you to a mall with all the latest haute couture shops or to a bodega strip mall calling itself a flea market where the practiced and tired refrains "One dollar, one dollar, come inside" only means one dollar off of inflated prices. Beauty abounds though, in small scenes. You just need to block out the time share sidewalk hucksters and too-eager merchants.

To be sure, the bride contributed to the local economy. She and her selected silversmith were on a first name basis quickly and to the profit of the artisan. Everyone was happy—me too, since I like her being happy. But  there were some unusual sights and sites as well.

A sidewalk barker selling tours told me that the Margarita and Marijuana was closed soon after it opened, and he didn't have a chance to partake.

My excitement about going was really centered around the Mayans of ages past. I was to visit both Chichen Itza and Tulum with a day between those two excursions spent snorkeling just off the Isla Mujeres. I wanted to take photos. I spent some time thinking about the photography long before embarking on the trip. Of course I wanted to take good shots, I love doing that, but I had to make some decisions. You'll recall from a couple of my posts past I've been suffering under the irony of eye infections and not being able to see very well, much less venturing outside into the painful sunlight. Cancun is bright. I decided to take along an eyepatch. I'm not the best looking pirate, but partially hidden behind my sunglasses, I assumed it would be understated enough not to cause too many staring questions. As it turned out, since the first two days were overcast to the point of darkness, I was able to acclimate to the last two days without any trouble.

The next question was what camera gear to bring. That too was taken out of my hands as the oldest son, just graduated from UT, came up to Dallas and borrowed most of my equipment for a documentary gig he was involved in at a local Austin gallery. I contemplated taking two camera bodies and a collection of lenses to better make the choices on what to use  while there. As it turns out I was left with just one body and two lenses and I think that choice being made for me turned out perfectly. And the new body, a professional Nikon D3s, performed flawlessly, even compensating on my sometimes poor technical choices.

Chichen Itza

"Be on the bus at 6:30. AM." 

That was doable. Even at an all-inclusive resort where one doesn't pay to eat or drink with a tendency then to overindulge a bit and a late night in the offing, it was a small price to pay. It's 200 kilometers from Cancun to Chichen Itza, so one can doze on the way. I tend not to sleep on planes or buses, opting to observe, but the first 50 kilometers of limestone scrub with no end in sight eventually gave way to droopy eyes.

On an excursion such as this, with 20 or 30 people in tow, much depends on the tour guide. It can be hit or miss. We lucked out. Eric is a descendent of the Yucatán Mayas and as a sociologist and anthropologist mixed with an empathic passion for his people placed in context, he made the day unforgettable. It involved a certain compromise as my preference is to wander around and think and compose, but that's simply not polite. Lucky for us we got nuance in culture, history, archaeology mixed with passionate dissertations on theology and the nature of being. I can't express how unfortunate it would have been to have missed his explanations of what the Mayan glyphs meant or of what it meant to think like the Mayan at the time of their dissolution at the end of the Post Classic period. Thank you Eric, may you continue to challenge and inform all who encounter you—you made our time in Chichen Itza unforgettable. If I went off on my own without the benefit of your knowledge, it would have been a much lesser experience.

Here now are some images with captions and brief notes.

Our stopping point inside the Chichen Itza area is the Mayaland Hotel where we'll have a nice late lunch after touring the site. The first hint of what awaits us is on the horizon a short distance away. It's the Caracol, so named for the spiral staircase inside the upper dome. We'll get a closer look at the Mayan observatory before long. You can view a larger size of the Bougainvillea and El Caracol here.

After passing through the official entrance gate we come upon the Temple of Xtoloc—the Mayan word for iguana. It may seem subtle to some, but look at this image in a larger size here, and look at the detail the new cam provides.

Here is Xtoloc himself. You see his head in the top stone. What looks like an extraordinarily long nose is actually a bone or stick piercing it. The second stone shows him grasping a snake.

We leave Xtoloc and the nearby large cenote—a limestone sinkhole filled with fresh water and probably one of the reasons for the initial settlement in the Early Classic period about AD 600. We're on our way to the Ossuary, the burial pyramid of the High Priest.

Just before we get to the Ossuary, we encounter the Platform of Venus, an homage to the great king Kukulkan and the planet Venus, prominent in Mayan cosmology and astrology. There are feathered serpents on either side of the stairs with the heads at the top on all four sides of the platform.

The Ossuary of the High Priest. The staircase feathered serpents, known as Quetzalcoatl, are an influence of the invading Toltecs.

A restored corner of the Ossuary. It used to be on the top of the pyramid, the only one of four that remains. You'll notice the appendages sticking out, representing the prominent nose. Above each nose and to each side you'll see eyes. Below the noses are the mouths. This is a common corner theme in many of the Mayan edifices.

We now approach the centerpiece of the Chichen Itza site, the Pyramid of Kukulkan.

See a larger version of this here, and in the original size and resolution here. 

The storm clouds were closing in but passed without dropping any rain. You'll notice the stepped pyramid design most evident in this shot on the right side. It's there on the left too, but I chose this vantage point for a reason. It may be easier to see in the larger sizes, but the steps are somewhat obscured by the side of the stairway beyond. It's important because of the precise astronomical alignment of the pyramid, that at dawn on the equinox, the staircase exterior beyond will be lit with triangles of light framed by the stepped sides of the pyramid. The seven triangles of light make the staircase appear as an undulating serpent: Kukulkan. And in one perfect moment on that dawn, the sides of the serpent and the head at the base are all illuminated in perfect spiritual and astronomical geometry.

You used to be able to climb to the top. I had heard the Instito Nacional de Antropologia e Historia ended the practice because a woman fell to her death. Our guide said he heard the same thing, but the real reason for ending the practice was in fact that unthinking and uncaring people were carving their names in the soft limestone and urinating inside the temple. Awful people ruining the experience for others is ever present.

Yes, I was patient in waiting at a particular spot in both of the above shots for the other visitors to walk out of my viewfinder—it really wasn't a long wait. Again, it was surprisingly uncrowded. I can't imagine the number of people who were in this spot for the Elton John concert. Larger versions of the image are here and here.

A short walk from the plaza at the Temple of Kukulkan and we're in the Great Ball Court.

The feathered serpent, Quetzalcoatl, is again part of the iconography. The circular stone disk is visible at the top of the wall mid court about 19 feet above the playing surface. Two teams of seven players each played with a basketball sized solid rubber ball weighing in at about 9 lbs and attempted to send the ball through the stone hoop striking the ball with their hips.

Everywhere there were vendors selling tchotchkes and tokens. I was happy enough to buy a hand embroidered handkerchief in exchange for a photograph of this beautiful young girl.

The end of the competition is not what one would expect. We see here the dénouement at the Great Ball Court. It's a bit easier to see in the glyph representation of a similar scene in the image below, the two are not exact matches, but close enough. On the left of the representation of the ball we see the High Priest, holding a knife in his right hand. In his left is the severed head of one of the competitors. The sacrificed one is on the right side of the ball, with serpents rising from his severed neck. The snakes symbolize the fertility his sacrifice will bring, both for the land and for the people. What's surprising to us, perhaps, is that the one who lost his life in the competition is the captain of the winning team. It would be a disincentive for most modern athletes, but apparently was the honor of a lifetime for the Mayan ball player.

A modern Mayan in the Great Ball Court selling carved wooden curios. A larger version is here. Our guide, Eric, lamented on the irony of teaching Anglo tourists those things that his modern countrymen knew little about—a rich history diluted by time and circumstance.

We at last arrive at El Caracol. The observatory is awe inspiring. I'm sorry that we cannot get much closer than what the photo below shows. Even given misuse and misbehavior by unthinking tourists there is another consideration that restricts access. Limestone is only a number 3 on the Moh's Scale of hardness where talc is 1 and a diamond is 10. Limestone just cannot endure millions of footprints without eventually becoming the same type of sand we walk on at that beautiful beach at the top of this page. All in all, I'm happy to see the Caracol, even from a distance. 

El Caracol in sepia. Larger versions are here and here. Original resolution is here. The color rendition can be found here which shows a richer texture.

We end now, reluctantly, with a too-short tour. There are many more photos, there is much more to see that I didn't get to photograph. I hope to return, armed with the knowledge and nuance bestowed by Eric and my own research and love of the people. 

We finished our time in Chichen Itza with a wonderful buffet lunch at the Mayaland Hotel—the maitre d' was impressively dressed:

The image at the top is a teaser from part two of our journey to Cancun, the excursion to Tulum—stay tuned. It took me more than a week to write the above post—contemplating, arranging, processing and writing. Thanks so much for coming along, I'll get Part 2 up as soon as I can.

all photos copyright © 2011 by barry b. doyle · all rights reserved

Illustration of the Ball Court glyph in the public domain 

from the Instituto Nacional de Antropologia e Historia

#  #  #