The hotel at Mérida – the María Jose – was great except for my swipe card that refused to work every single time. Naturally, I was located at the very back of the rabbit’s warren of the hotel, necessitating a labyrinthine walk back to the front desk a couple of times a day until I got sick of it and demanded they reactivate my card just automatically. Room card 47 was clearly stuffed, and no I was not putting it anywhere near credit cards.
But nothing could dampen my mood. I was off to Uxmal (pronounced Oosh-mahl) with the gang of Boomers in my group. Uxmal is a special place. Another one on the Stephens and Catherwood trail of ruins surfing, the ruins are very ornately carved in the Puuc (pronounced Pook) style. They are Mayan – everything in the Yucatan is Mayan – but it’s a different style of Mayan. No carvings of people like Palenque – more of animals, birds and the rain god, Chac. Soooo many Chacs.
Why go back to back Chacs? Why go back to see it again? I could be with the other members of the group on some muddy swimming thing or hanging around town. A few reasons – I had learnt that I missed out on seeing a few buildings last time, a possible different perspective with a different guide, and really I just love the feeling of being there. The thrill of history, exploration, culture and beauty when you are standing in the middle of an ancient Mayan plaza just can’t be beat. This is an Uncle Scrooge adventure – not a sitting on my arse Juicy Couture mall excursion. I am here to climb temples, marvel at ancient construction, explore temples and take lots of pictures of iguanas. Swimming! Pah! I have a bath at home.
I also consider myself so privileged to see some of these places twice in my life when so many people in Mexico won’t even get to see them once. It is truly a great honour to experience them. And they are all unique. It’s not a case of seen one ruin, seen them all. The people who built them were all diverse. All Maya but different Maya. Different times, different people, different architecture.
But first, laundry! It was a crisis of no sock proportions. Could my friends tell I was wearing the same singlet I was sleeping in? The previous laundry refused to do my socks and undies!!! (As I write this in Santa Clara, Cuba, I just learnt that Che Guevara boasted of wearing the same rugby jersey 25 days in a row when he was at uni. #laundrygoals) Laundry in Merida is pretty cheap – couple of bucks – same day service next to the hotel – perfecto.
Then breakfast! I headed for the zocalo. Jo time does not always coincide with Mexican time. I tend to get up earlier and he hungry before shops open. I realised that the only place open was a restaurant I had been in before but mucho decoration had occurred. I showed the waiter an old photo I took three years ago, as I knocked off my last huevos motulenos (cry). He loved it! He poured mas café for me before I dashed back to the hotel.
Our guide for the day, Jose-sway, not Jose, Jose-sway, was earnest and meant well but I don’t think ruins were his passion in life. He knew what he was talking about for sure but crucial details were left out. For example, the first pyramid is known as the Temple or Pyramid of the Magician or Sorcerer.
The steps and door are smaller than usual. Jose-sway neglected to mention that the king was a dwarf – the little people were considered to possess magic powers. I passed on this knowledge nugget to the tour crew.
The pyramid is also unusual because it’s round. Check it out.
But this is the arse end of the pyramid. The main facade is my favourite. Up top, it’s a giant monster head with a face and the steps are like a huge rolling tongue. Chac rain gods adorn the side like tongue piercings. No, they are not elephants. No elephants in the Americas. That’s Chac’s nose. It takes my breath away. Just magnificent. I could stand there forever gawping at it.
This beautiful monstrosity is in a courtyard. New discovery – bats in a doorway! Cool! Naturally a group of school kids shot blocked me, spoiling the vista and the silence. Stone macaws, quetzals and hummingbirds adorn the roof of a building in a shady corner. Like at Palenque, it was a hot, clear day.
Next was the Quadrangle of the Nuns. Not named for Nuns on the Run or any other Robbie Coltrane movies, but the Spanish thought it reminded them of a convent when they found it. Four buildings – I happen to know one was for nobles, one for workers, one for religious types and I think one for royals – but don’t recall hearing that pointed out. One side is truly breathtaking. Right up there in terms of intricate carvings.
Two serpents slide their way down the entire panel on the top of the building which features carvings of faces and more snakes – one with a man’s face protruding from the mouth.
The site is also home to a roving pack of iguanas. Jose-sway is on a first name basis with them. One was called Panchita. Another was so fat that I was startled to see his stubby little legs moving him along with such speed. The iguanas poke out of rocks, lie about on steps, laze on the grass, dash into holes. Cute!
Then it was off to the Governor’s Palace via the ball court. The ballcourt is quite small at Uxmal – the Chichen Itza one is epic. But it does have a nice ring to it! Boom! Dad joke for Mayan enthusiasts. Let’s go on …
The Governor’s Palace was the administration centre. It’s very ornate. Stephens and Catherwood holed up at the GP for a bit during their travels across Mexico. Some of Catherwood’s most famous drawings are of the GP including a magnificent headdress and a Mayan arch, highly romanticised with locals lolling about out the front like there’s nothing better to do. I think there’s a snake too.
Really, poor old Stephens and Catherwood were probably shivering and sweating at death’s door the whole time, but Stephens’ account still retains this sense of wonder despite his delirium. They also found a cool double headed stone jaguar on display.
Jose-sway left us here to our own devices for half an hour but I needed some special assistance. Like a half-murmured legend lost to the ages, I had heard rumours of an Uxmal temple of .. well .. er … the male appendage. Yes – it was now Indiana Jo and the Quest for the Lost Temple of the Penis. (This is now the bit where my Mum will have to do some creative reading aloud to my grandparents.) I only had a few minutes. I couldn’t beat around the bush. I shamelessly asked Jose-sway if it existed and where it was. He laughed and seemed only too eager to show me! I suspected white chicks from Australia didn’t often ask for the penis temple which was not on the standard Uxmal tourist route of buildings. In fact, it’s not on the map at all. I only knew about it through my personal readings.
Jose-sway – estimated age in his mid 30s – and I broke away from the rest of the group who had no idea what was afoot. I giggled like a schoolgirl.
First though, I did want to see two other buildings I missed last time so I commandeered Jose-sway as my personal guide. (He knew a chunky tip was coming his way by indulging me, I am sure.) First, the House of the Pigeons, named for the building’s resemblance to a pigeon run. Or whatever you call them on top of a roof. No intricate carvings here but the square design of the top of the building was pretty. Jose-sway was like Princess Margaret’s husband, snapping photos of cute birds in trees for me. I also got wonky shots of me out the front too.
Next was Casa de Tortuga – the House of the Turtles. Somehow in my mind this was bigger. It was really the size of a bike shed with some cool turtle decorations on the top. I had probably walked right past it last time. But thanks for another nice photo, Jose-sway.
Ok. After dragging Jose-sway around (I don’t think he minded too much), it was finally time to discover the Lost Temple of the Penis. He warned me that it was set a bit away and we would have to walk fast to get back to meet the others. Well, of course, any self-respecting penis temple would have a modicum of modesty. Couldn’t set it up in the Quadrangle of the Nuns for example. De nada (no worries).
Devastation! The path was roped off! Jose-sway was sad in his heart that I had come so far to fall at this final hempen hurdle. He apologised as if he had underperformed somehow. He showed me pictures in a folder as a conciliatory gesture. Four foot phalluses coming out of the ground!
He asked if I had seen the boneyard. (No pun intended.) What boneyard??? Turns out there’s something like an ossuary at Uxmal too. It’s truly the gift that keeps giving. Next time …
Now it was a supermarket sweep of the five or so shops. I hastily bought skinny guidebooks of Uxmal and Palenque, a necklace with a Mayan glyph on it and a fridge magnet. We wolfed a delicious lunch. Nobody had told my crew that Yucateco pork was the schizzle so nobody had ordered it but me when I came screaming into the restaurant late for lunch after all that conspicuous consumption.
While the others hung around the small museum – I had already breezed in and out – I picked up a cup of chaya. This is a green juice made from a leaf a bit like spinach but it is more refreshing and sweet. It’s a very Yucateco thing to drink. FYI – we crossed from Chiapas to Yucatan state on the bus the previous day. Chiapas is all about the coffee. Yucatan is all about the cochinita pibil or orange flavoured shredded pork. And the chaya.
Uxmal was the main event but we headed to the small after party, Kabah, 20 minutes up the road. This is a much smaller site. On my previous trip, I was told it was a wealthy guy’s place. Jose-sway told me it was an actual city, but a bit smaller. I like that better. It’s so ornate – far too much detail has gone into it. Seems more likely to have been public buildings. The main building is called the Codz Poop. It has the most Chacs on it of any Mayan ruin. Fully packed Chacs. Side by side. Stacked Chacs.
Stones with glyphs are littered around. Some bastard took them from the top of the building at some point. There is an altar out the front that was trashed before Stephens and Catherwood got there in the 1840s. Some of the glyphs are amazingly well preserved. Others are harder to read.
Out the back, is another terrace where two statues of warriors are clearly visible. One has undergone ye old fashioned iconoclasm with his hands and head chopped off. Only pedestals remain where at least five or six others should have stood. A lintel in a doorway depicts a warrior about the decapitate an opponent. An unexpected iguana ran a mile when I nearly stepped on it.
Nobody clearly gives a stuff about the back of Kabah. No cool carvings or Chacs means it’s less sexy to maintain. It’s looking a bit run down with weeds and undergrowth poking through. Not in a cool jungle way either. More in a Jim’s mowing needed way. A bitter orange tree adds a pleasant contrast.
Everybody seemed to have enjoyed themselves, although general consensus was that Jose-sway was no Francisco. The transport took us back to town.
It was time to hit Mérida. First, I hit the bookstore where I found a small photographic book on Yucateco ruins. No Espanol needed for photos of old guys in pith helmets! Then a cheap dinner of conchita pibil and conchita pollo gorditas – tacos but more floury like hot pockets – seriously, that was like three bucks AUD.
I may also have popped in for a quick mezcal on the way home …
Dear friends, return for the next HockTale where I bid adios to my amigo . ..
HockTales: a Central American Adventure 