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Tale
Six - Palenque - by Malik
I arrived into Palenque, about 255 kms away from San Cristobal
around 10 pm. It was the 9th of July 2002, a mid point in my
tour program. I was already behind the schedule!
One of the main tourist sites (the ruins), was about 8 kilometers
away deep in the rainforest. I became a little panicky and decided
to stay in the city for the night. However, a few tourists were
discussing how to reach there. I also joined them and we all
went in a taxi to a jungle resort paying one dollar each. Called
Rishti Cabana, the resort was very popular because of inexpensive
lodging and nearness to the ruins. This place was renowned for
its safety where any one could stay in a shack, pitch a tent
or hang a hammock. Theft or crimes were unheard of.
We went to the resort office, a ramshackle cabin in the woods.
No room was available on that night. We decided to have a dinner
and then hunt around for a place to stay. There being no electricity,
a lantern-light dinner was being served in an adjoining palapa,
an open-sided structure thatched with palm leaves. The clientele
was mostly European, their white faces glittering in the hall.
After we ate our fill, I asked others to join me in a look around.
Only Alex, a young man from Cannes, USA came with me. We walked
in the dark and reached another resort. Luckily, they had two
cottages for around $6 each. I instantly agreed to the price
but Alex was rather non-plus. He asked me if I would be willing
to share the place splitting up the cost. I was skeptical and
suggested him to take up the next cottage. He left to go elsewhere,
agreeing to wake me up next morning to visit the ruins.
I was dead tired from a long journey and called it a day. My
sleep was, however, disturbed at some point by loud and scary
sounds and shrills. The complex was right in the jungle filled
with many animals especially howler monkeys. I remained worried
for some time but soon dozed off.
Early in the morning, someone knocked at my door. It was Alex
with red-eyes. He told me that he could only afford a hammock
which was quite risky in an open jungle. He remained awake almost
the whole night trembling with fear. I felt sorry and wished
I could have accommodated him in my room. We went to the restaurant
and asked for fresh fruit with yoghurt and coffee. In the meantime,
we enquired for some alternate accommodation. We were shown
a room for which $10 were demanded for staying single and $12
for double. I paid $10 and asked Alex to pay $2 to share the
room. He seemed genuinely pleased. Though he needed sleep he
preferred to go out now, as soon it would be too hot and humid
to allow a nice walk.
At the entrance gate the ruins appeared small, but a new towering
building, emerged around every turn. Though early in the morning,
the heat was sweltering. I was not worried as I was fully equipped
with water, cap and goggles. The whole area was full of temples
and palaces. Awesome were three temples with their fancy names;
"Temple of the Cross", "Temple of the Foliated
Cross" and "Temple of the Sun". These were said
to be the hub of all religious activities. Inside each were
stone tablets carved with the image of a priest and hieroglyphics.
Short explanations in Spanish and English were posted at the
doors. It was surprising all these towering structures were
built without the use of metal tools, pack- animals or the use
of wheels. The huge ruins were what remained from one of the
most prosperous and lasting Mayan civilizations.
There were marked trails to guide the visitors to other areas
of interest. Being nestled amidst steep and thickly forested
hills, there was a dense growth obstructing a long view. Trail
paths though were neat and clear, allowing a leisurely stroll.
We passed by dozen of thundering waterfalls tumbling into the
yellow-green savannah. Every now and then, there was a clearing
or vast ground with a towering Pyramid or Temple in sight. Throngs
of tourists were hurrying past one place or another, their eyes
glued to the ruins, their ears alert to the guide's narrative.
In brief spells some would click their cameras, gulp mineral
water and walk briskly to join their bunch.
Hafeez ur Rahman Malik, Karachi-Pakistan.
Submitted: 26 September 2002
Next: Tale 7 - The Far East of Mexico
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Malik
- Pakistan
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