Just had a wonderful vinaigrette salad with chicken and a Maya cream soup…listening to Ambient Lounge on the iPod…candle-lit tables all around…the twittering masses now gone back to Cancun aboard cattle buses, hundreds of ‘em, and the jungle is silent again.
I think I had a new age experience today. I was running late outta Izamal due to map reading mishap and after tour of the Caribbean I arrived at the hotel (after begging the police who had the area cordoned off)…unloaded, checked in, made a dinner reservation for 8pm, and headed for the back entrance to the ruins. It was 4:40 so I thought it was pointless in terms of equinox viewing. But the crowds dressed in white Panama shirts and skirts egged me on, and the woman at the entrance said it was free to enter…so I did…Throngs shopped at a billion trinket tables. I heard flutes and chanting in the distance. The sky was dark with cumulus, my soul still rumbling around 20-wheelers on Yucatan route 11 (I didn’t want to pay the $15 quota for the fast road).
The Castillo looked gray and less than animated with a sun and shadow serpent ascending its back as was advertised in my travel brochure. But the crowds were actively engaged in photographing themselves, one French photog shooting a model holding a length of Mayan fabric blowing in the breeze, fortunately obscuring her face. White was the fashion statement of the day. I wore khaki, always bucking the trend. Damn, I forgot my candle and incense. No matter, the smell of dope was in the air, or at least, a very dreamy group attitude. And it was good, as few of the European women sport bras at an equinox and dreadlocks are very low maintenance. I thought to pass out Bic disposable razors to help those with uncontrolled armpit hair, and Yahni CDs for the overstressed. I edged into the sea of good souls, accepting all the smiles personally. “Sorry, I’m late, thank you, really.” The Pangaea of people suddenly broke into chant and I looked up.
Yes, the sun was cooperating suddenly after a long day of gloom. In fact, now there was harmony in whooping and…yes…tears of joy. I turned on the tape recorder because the guy behind me was saying things like, “Kulkukan is giving us a sign, brothers!” I clicked away as the snake shape appeared in the suddenly hard yet warm tropical sunlight, slithering up the pyramid. Shit, just as advertised! “And look man, it’s a rainbow!” He was right. A rainbow arched from the sacred cenote to Castillo and the light was ocher with the foreboding clouds above an ornery blue. Snap. Snap. Hands waved. Lots of oooohs and awwwwwwes. Yes, I thought, “Road of Awwwwwwwe….. (my new website) — ALL TOGETHER NOW” All hands aloft for the snake’s arrival. Then big sultry drops of rain – abruptly and mysteriously I must admit — began to pelt raised enlightened heads, dread locks sagged, impermanent tattoos ran, and cameras vanished into nylon bags. People headed for cover and cappuccinos. As if on cue, guards took the opportunity to stretch out thick ropes and herd the leftovers from the sacred ground. “Closing time!” Some clutches of earthy folks from Brazil or Uruguay or Berkeley danced in crazy circles, kissed sloppily, and enjoyed being videotaped. Lightening and thunder over Witz Mountain in the dark distance. 2012 only three years away. Calling my tailor on Monday for something cool…and White.
