And then I was offered as a trade for a drum...

Two-and-a-half weeks later, I finally get a chance to blog... Yet, as they say, a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'm going to let most of them speak for themselves.

The majority of the "exciting" parts of the past couple of weeks have to do with traveling around the Yucatán to explore the Mayan ruins. Saturday, September 12, I departed on a trip which they call "El inframundo" (the underworld), so named for the theme of the route - Mayan ruins that portray entrances and/or connections to the spirit world. Our guide, Memo, is a professor at UADY (la Universidad Autónoma de Yucatán, Facultad de la Antropología), the university I attend in Mérida, and throughout the four-day trip, he was able to show us some of the most interesting archaeological finds of the world.

Our first stop on the trip was Cobá, where we rented bicycles to travel through the jungle (where we also found some really neat animals - I think there's a picture up of one of them). Among the many ruins we explored were the stones with "prediction dates" on them - which some people have construed, unfortunately, to be the date the world ends - AND we climbed the tallest Mayan pyramid! The view from the top was, to date, the most incredible sight – only to be challenged days later by what I took in while visiting Tulum. From the top of the pyramid, all I could see was jungle, speckled here and there with another temple, pyramid, or cenote. Climbing the pyramid was actually not too challenging, though the way down proved to be a bit more of an obstacle (last year, actually, two people died falling down the steep steps).
After Cobá, we went to a cenote (pronounced say-no-tay, please!!! Not say-note). Cenotes are found only in the Yucatán Peninsula, which is basically a giant slab of limestone (the biggest in the world), in which no rivers are found. Instead, there is a vast reserve of water deep underground, and every so often, geologically speaking, a hole opens up to the “above-ground” world. The first cenote we visited, which I cannot remember the name, horrible as it is, looks like a small 4x4-ft. hole in the ground. In this hole is a stairwell, which, over a period of 5 or so minutes of descending, brings the traveler from a world of 118 degrees (F) and 95% humidity to a brisk and chilly cave, lit by a single lamp. In this cave is the clearest water I’ve seen in nature – the cave was huge, and the cenote very deep, but one could easily see to the very bottom. We swam in that chilly cave for a few hours before tiring out and venturing to our “rustic camp.”
What we were told was a rustic camp actually turned out to be little cabañas on a deserted beach of the Caribbean, right next to Tulum, one of the most impressive Mayan ruins I’ve seen, if only for its juxtaposition to perhaps the most beautiful beach in the world. Sleeping in hammocks in small palm-covered huts, falling asleep and waking up to the sound of the waves splashing on a pristine beach: this is paradise, I tell you. If you look at only one of my pictures, this is the sight you have to see – the water is the most perfect shade of turquoise-blue, and not a better temperature could be dreamt of, and the sand is not only white but flawless in every way. I do believe I saw a little piece of heaven that weekend.
The following three days were spent exploring the jungle, venturing to remote and spectacular ruins of the Mayan people. What interested me was that though these structures were build over 1700 years ago, many inhabitants of the Yucatán still hold on to the traditional belief systems associated with them. For instance, Memo led a few of us into a small bat-filled cave that was used for religious rituals, and one of the girls in our group asked if it was safe to be in there. His response was “Sí, por lo menos si no toques esta cosa roja por allá” (Yes, as long as you don’t touch that red thing right there). What he had pointed to was a small red bag, about the length of my thumb, tied tightly with a cord. He explained to us that it was modern-day witchcraft, a common spectacle even today. Although the villagers appear to have integrated themselves into modern belief systems and practices, their Mayan traditions still hold strong. A family could have Catholic imagery all over their houses, a cross around their neck, and be avid Church-goers, but when they really needed help in a matter, would not be opposed to taking to the forest to beg the ancient gods for intervention. Most interesting to me is that even those who do not still take part in these rituals definitely believe in them , or at the very least have a great respect for them– even my host family speaks of the “energy” associated with places, times, objects, and people, associating everything with the spirit world.
The last place we visited before coming home (after two more cenotes, neither of which were underground, but both of which provided excellent cliffs to dive and jump from) was Ek Balam. It almost seemed like a dream, how well this ruin was preserved. Uncovered very recently, the original plaster, murals, and sculptures seem like they were crafted just weeks ago. One of my favorite things to do when I’m observing a new ruin or archaeological area is to imagine it as it once was, with the original inhabitants going about their daily business. At Ek Balam, it was not only easy to imagine it as it once was, but even difficult to remember what time we were living in, thousands of years after the Maya. Again, we climbed to the top of the structure (most of the great ruins have some way of getting to the top, a steep stairway with tiny steps for tiny Mayan feet, usually). This time, I saw something strange. Instead of the flat jungle, from the top I saw two very distinct hills, covered with vegetation. When I asked Memo about them, he replied that underneath, there are two more structures waiting to be uncovered. The excavation team awaited money from government and other sources to fund the project. How exciting is that?! There are STILL things TODAY that we haven’t seen, that we know are there, and just haven’t been uncovered! That absolutely blows my mind – that we were standing next to magnificent buildings, well-preserved by the earth, I’m sure, hidden from human eyes for over one thousand years. Just yesterday, actually, at Chichén Itzá, I learned that Memo was awaiting permission to scuba-dive to the bottom of a very famous cenote to explore what may be hidden at the bottom: most likely gold, silver, and human remains, long ago thrown to the underworld.
After a long journey back to Mérida, we quickly pulled ourselves together because, lo-and-behold, it was the 15th of September – Mexican Independence! The Mexican tradition to celebrate Independence is that in the center of every city, the zócalo, the governor (or, in the case of el D.F., the president) comes out and rings a big bell and shouts VIVA MÉXICO three times, just as was done in the Grito de Dolores in 1810, kicking off México’s fight against Spain for their independence. Coincidentally, the Yucatán was actually an independent country, apart from México, for a short chunk of time, but that’s another story for another day. We stood in la plaza grande for hours, listening to the live music, el grito, and being showered with both burning embers from the fireworks and some lovely gifts from the many birds that inhabit Mérida’s central park.
The following day, the 16th of September, was also a holiday, and Thursday we returned to “normal life” of classes, the beach, and, of course, plenty of salsa dancing. Sunday, though – and Daddy, you’ll be proud of this – I went with some of my new friends to a concert at el Teatro de Mérida, called Dancing the Beatles: Give Peace a Chance, in honor of el Día de la Paz (Day of Peace), which was Monday. Though some of my friends spoke not a single world of English, nearly all knew the words to the songs. The performance turned out to be less professional than we thought, more of a recital, with dancers aged 5 to maybe 16 years, but it actually turned out to be an incredible performance, even more so by the audience (and hey, that’s an authentic representation of the 60s, isn’t it?). Between my university the concert, and what I did Tuesday (which I’m about to tell you), I’m certain I’ve met the majority of the hippie population of Mérida by now (and yes, here they are called “hippis” as well).
Tuesday morning, I decided to skip class with some of the archaeology students, but for what I believe to be a very important reason (and, thank goodness, my professors agreed). Chichén Itzá, only an hour-and-a-half bus ride (or 2 and a half, if you take the cheap bus that goes through every pueblo on its way, which we did) from Mérida, is one of the best places in the world to experience an equinox. At a certain hour (5:00, yesterday) on the equinox, the light from the sun hits the temple in such a way that it “slithers” down the slide, illuminating a great serpent all along the side of the pyramid. The serpent, in fact, along with the jaguar and eagle, is one of the central symbolic animals of the Mayan people. Though global climate change sent a terrific storm through so we couldn’t quite see the spectacle, we DID have the pleasure of having three very intelligent archaeology students to show us our way through the ruins, which is actually a bigger blessing than one might think: many of the tour guides actually provide false information to the tourists both because they are not well educated on the ruins and because a lot of tourists want to hear about the human sacrifices and incredible things, so stories are made up for pure shock value. **side-note: my friend I was walking with was offered a drum for me – apparently my trade value is equivalent to a Mayan drum 
After eating out in el centro, where I actually found a delicious vegetarian sandwich, I again returned to the somewhat-real world of classes and family. Soon to come, and sorry if this is a little too nerdy for some to handle, but I’m excited to tell some of you fellow latino-culture-lovers: starting a term paper for la literature latinoamericana sobre el libro “Los cuadernos de Praga” sobre Ché Guevara, que escibió después de la revolución cubana, y para mi clase de la antropología latinoamericana, empiezo a investigar el tema del tráfico humano en Latinoamérica (empezando temprano para Perú, chicas!!), también para un ensayo final. This Saturday, too, I’m very excited about, because it’s my first trip as part of the group “Hoy en tu comunidad” (meaning, Today in your community). It’s a group of medical students, doctors, nurses, and other students, who meet every Saturday to travel to small pueblos in the Yucatán where there are limited or no health services. We set up a great big tent for the day, and provide free medical care for the entire village. I am SO excited to go on these trips – the first one is to a place called Tekit.
I hope all is well with everyone in the States (or, actually, anywhere in the world from where you are reading this) – keep in touch, let me know what’s happening in the world outside of México!