Belize: Exploring Lamanai
The year is 2012 and I’ve been seeking illumination about the date of December 21. What better way to find inspiration than to visit a major Mayan site in Central America? So last month we set out for a day trip to the Maya ruins of Lamanai in northern Belize. The route we took involved driving north from Belize City toward Chetumal, Mexico and then embarking in a boat and traveling up the New River.
1) the road north – not much to see except small farms
We turned off the highway at a nondescript collection of wooden shacks. Two small outboard runabouts waited for visitors. We boarded without delay and set off through the dry forest along the river. A baby fresh-water crocodile posed photogenically for us in the lilies near the dock.
2) Baby croc – only about a foot long: Photo by Shawn Herring
As we wound our way through narrow, snake-infested passageways, the undergrowth soon gave way to open river. The forest contained plenty of wildlife but was hardly primeval. Still, it was a part of Belize that most tourists seem to miss, preferring instead to delve into the wonders of the rain forest further south.
3) Thick, overhanging bush
4) The river opens up: photo by Shawn Herring
We moved slowly, in order to examine the critters and their abodes.
5) Tree termite nest
The boat driver was sharp-eyed and called our attention to a variety of birds, including the hard-to-see Mangrove swallow.
6) Not rare… just difficult to spot
A large Mennonite community had a settlement on the river bank. The woman in their old-fashioned frocks reminded us of nineteenth-century German peasants as they stood watching us from their wharf. We didn’t photograph them; the action would have been disrespectful, and it wouldn’t do to steal people’s souls with modern optical contrivances.
7) Mennonite village
At last the river widened further, into the Lamanai Lagoon, effectively a huge lake in the middle of the bush. Truly a dramatic location, it’s easy to see why the Maya picked the spot, with its commanding views and strategic advantages.
The lagoon
Partially excavated pyramids rose like great buttresses through the trees. An aura of mystery and sadness hung over the landscape. Unlike its sister cities in Mesoamerica, Lamanai was never abandoned. The complex was occupied continuously for three thousand years but devastated in the end by European disease and exploitation. Pillaging Spanish and English slave-seekers did what the environment could not; the culture disappeared quickly and quietly after contact with the outside world.
9) Tourists atop a pyramid as seen from the lagoon: photo by Shawn Herring
We debarked from the boat and walked into the city. A greeter flapped vigorously from his tree.
10) Toucan. I have a nagging feeling this bird may have been someone’s pet
The Belizean authorities have done a good job at uncovering a few of the pyramids and other buildings but most of Lamanai remains buried under a 500 years of detritus and plant growth.
11) Most of the city is buried under intact dry forest: photo by Shawn Herring
We explored the site. You could see that people had once lived here but the obvious traces were gone.
12) Basins or metates?
At one of structures the frescoes had been reconstructed.
13) Here a face was copied in the plaster – the real version lay underneath, protected from weathering
And of course we climbed the highest pyramid, dodging rain squalls.
14) Diana looks up as we climb
15) On the way down
The ball court presented a significant anomaly. Lamanai’s version was very small, and perhaps merely symbolic. However, in the middle of the pitch, underneath a carved circular stone, archaeologists have found a pool of pure mercury, placed there by the Maya. Were the ancient ones skriers? Peering into the liquid metal and divining the future like their peers in medieval Europe?
16) The weird ball court. The mercury pool was found under the small stone that looks as if it’s below this woman’s purse.
We’ll never know their intent.
At the Temple of the Jaguar (a modern name and almost certainly not that of the Maya) the frescoes are original and spooky.
17) Jaguar eyes
The biggest excavated series of buildings is found here, too.
18) Standing near Shawn and his friend, Danny
The rain poured down on us as we stood, baffled by the monumental architecture and by a culture so far removed from ours as to be unfathomable. So what does that magical date in December hold for civilization? Mostly likely more of the same, the never-ending cycles, the ups and downs along with rebirth and destruction, as humanity blunders its way through present time. Will we be able to avoid the mistakes made by both the Maya and their eventual conquerors? All indications point to the answer as, “No.”
And the Maya are not talking.
Like this:
Jamaica: The Go-Fast Trip
I had the opportunity in 1992 to cover an international road rally in Jamaica on behalf of Autoweek, the weekly magazine devoted to all things car-related. Naturally I jumped at the chance; I had lived on the island in the early 80s and still had many fond memories.
This trip was one of a different sort; the rally route covered a huge swath of territory and lasted three days. I had coordinated my attendance with local automotive enthusiasts and the Jamaican tourist board and was provided with transport by way of several vehicles, including cars belonging to medics, spectators, and government officials. A colleague of mine came on the adventure as well and acted as a back-up photographer.
We began in Kingston, not the most touristic of destinations. The place has a bad rap, probably deserved, but the locals proved either friendly or indifferent.
1) Early on departure day near the stadium. Not much hoopla. In the background rise the Blue Mountains
2) Close-up of the stadium, scene of many famous events in modern Jamaican history
I wasn’t sure how uneasy I should feel, hanging in the King’s Town with expensive camera equipment draped over my shoulders, but the vibe was easy-going.
3) Waiting for the festivities to begin
Soon enough the rally fired up. The drivers whom I accompanied, inevitably wanna-be racers, screamed down back road, racing through crowded villages at speeds reaching 60 miles per hour and causing all sorts of mayhem. The rides were great fun.
We passed through areas seldom seen by casual visitors, including sites where bauxite had been mined years earlier, old sugar plantations, and some of the larger towns.
4) Cane field
Especially interesting were the rural people.
5) Rastas trying to make a few dollars along the rally route
6) Cops looking dutifully scornful
7) Sugar mill with conveyor belt passing over the road; you can see the same set-ups in Hawaii
Every hour or so I saw sights that seemed more interesting than the cars I was supposed to be following.
8) Kids in the bush
9) Esso goes oxymoronic
But eventually I did what I was supposed to do and shot the car race. Our theory was a simple one: find a spot with a road hazard and snap a pic of every car that navigates it. Regardless of the race winner there would be one cool photo, at least, of the best car doing something radical.
10) A big puddle
Sometimes my faith in the drivers was touching. I posted myself at a ninety degree turn on a dirt road for a few hours, never wondering if one of the cars would spin out and crash through my position.
11) Cornering
In St. Thomas parish the car I rode with, which carried the race medics, got stuck in a field and blocked the race for an hour or so. Oops.
12) Blocking the route; at least the scenery was nice
Eventually the racers returned to Kingston. The only hold-up was a final police checkpoint just west of the capital. Large men with automatic weapons searched the car I was in; my Jamaican friends told me quietly to not say a word during the stop. I was happy to comply.
The magazine article was published in the States a few weeks later and so ended the great Jamaican car race.
Mexico: A Glimpse of the Old World in Izamal, 1978
USA: Departing Seattle
Descending the Cairo Side - a novel of the traveling life
Available as an e-book on Amazon.com
Everybody whines and complains about air travel these days but the experience doesn’t always have to be a bad one. You need only a combination of good weather, pleasant staff at the airport, and a sense of patience.
Of course, maybe the above combination is asking for a lot of circumstances to interact in the correct manner at the same time.
Last week Shawn and I left Seattle for the East Coast, on a flight to Boston. The only real hassle at the Seatac airport is to get through security in a timely fashion. But this day no lines snaked through the corridors.
We found our gate with an hour remaining to wait until boarding. But since the sky was so nice I decided to snap some pics.
1) Our plane is at the gate but one woman doesn’t look pleased
2) Baggage cart with the Olympic range in the distance, the Brothers twin peaks rising to 7000 ft.
To our great satisfaction the airplane loaded on schedule. But then we sat on the tarmac for an hour while a widget was replaced in the cabin heating system.
But eventually we did get in the air, and were immediately rewarded with some nice views of Puget Sound.
3) Looking west to Maury Island with the Olympics in the background
Finally, one last photo as languor set in. Five hours flying over the USA makes for a lot of reading time.
4) The Brothers again…
The Cook Islands: Aitutaki’s Lagoon
The atoll of Aitutaki is generally recognized as one of the Pacific’s most beautiful. Flying to the island is a real treat, even when the weather isn’t perfect.
1) The first corner
2) Now more appears in the airplane window
The landing strip is a newish addition to the original airfield built by the Americans in WWII.
3) Ready to land – pic shot thru the cockpit door
Of course, the real joy in experiencing the lagoon isn’t to found from an airplane window. You have to venture into it by boat.
4) The sea’s colors are a swirl of azure
Great snorkling is to be found around the rocks at its edge, too.
5) Playing with snorkels and masks
Lastly, the motus, or small islands that circumscribe the reef, are wondrous uninhabited deserted islets, where the only sounds are the whistle of the wind through the palms and the calls of the tropic birds.
6) Honeymoon Motu, so named, it is said, because 40 years ago a Canadian couple decided to get married here. To the right, behind Honeymoon’s sandbar, is a different motu, Maina
7) Another view of Maina
8) Diana, as close to paradise as a modern person can reasonably hope to find herself
