Apocalypse Now

Life is full of cycles -- day/night, birth/death, war/peace, and ultimately the rise/fall of civilizations. We are all living in a post-apocalyptic world, whether we know it or not.  According to the well-publicized interpretations of the Mayan calendar, the world was supposed to end on December 21, 2012.  Despite that fact, we are all still wandering this earth with no more than our usual share of natural disasters and calamities.  Regardless of the fact that the apocalypse came and went uneventfully (much like the Y2K phenomenon), there was a large share of believers who wanted to see the anticipated end-of-the-world firsthand, and therefore traveled to the centers of ancient Mayan civilization.  Some would call these people "crazy" or "lunatics" for their actions, with their well-timed foray into the frontlines of the apocalypse.  I normally would have thought the same thing, had I not been included in this group of people.  Yes, I, too, was one of the crazed masses who congregated at Mayan temples on this predetermined date to watch the epic destruction of the earth.  And here is my story...

It all started with a winter vacation, and a lack of foresight on my part.  When one has a 4 or 5 day stretch of time off from work, one does what any person infected with the travel bug would do -- book a mini-vacation!  I had no choice in the days that I was assigned off, but I did have the choice in where to go during December.  It had to be somewhere warm, someplace I had never been, someplace reasonably close due to the time constraints, and someplace with culture and history into which I could be immersed.  There was one clear winner -- Belize.

And so I set out on my mini-adventure, rife with ruins to traverse, jungles to trek, and river caves to explore.  And of course, to top it all off, a side trip to the neighboring country of Guatemala for a visit to the Mayan epicenter of Tikal.  You see, I have a special place in my heart for these Central and South American civilizations, and it is my goal to visit most of them one day.  Plus, I figured it would be a great time of year to go -- not swelteringly hot, and reasonably devoid of tourists.  And yes, I inadvertently chose December 21 as the day to visit Tikal -- a quiet weekday to relax and hike the ruins in solitude, just like I'd seen in all the guidebooks.

I couldn't have been further from the truth.  Upon entering the amazingly vast complex of temples and ruins, I was greeted by a cacophony of drums and chanting, as people were celebrating the rebirth of the world.  There were natives dressed in traditional costumes dancing around fires, and many MANY tourists crammed into the main plazas joining in on the festivities.  So much for solace and quiet introspection.  So much for silently pondering the past and its impact on the present -- the impact was more like a brutal slap to the face as an awakening epiphany hit me as to the significance of the day I had actually chosen to visit.

While not how I had anticipated visiting these holy ruins, I nevertheless took it all in stride, and enjoyed the contemporary festivities juxtaposed amidst the gigantic temples of faded civilizations.  I trekked through ancient palaces, climbed countless stairs to the tops of temples, explored the ball courts where so many had played for their lives and lost, and admired the architecture still standing centuries later.  And then there was the odd discovery on the outskirts of the site.  There, on a platform built many centuries ago (probably to display ancient ceremonial sacrificial rites) was a group of pale people undeniably from the United States.  But these weren't just any tourists -- oh no!  They were performing well-rehearsed, synchronized, ritualistic dancing while chanting in an indecipherable language.  And they had been at it for hours.  There was sweat dripping from their faces as they continued their ceaseless chanting.  I couldn't help but become entranced by their actions; whether it was from amusement at their ludicrous display of beliefs, or confusion as to what was actually happening, I shall never know.  Maybe they were hoping to see the end of the world and failed, or maybe they were trying to prevent it, and succeeded.  Maybe they were lost, crazy souls without guidance, or maybe they were acutely attuned to a higher being and saved us all from destruction.  All I know is that I had the last laugh, as I eventually chuckled and walked away to further explore the amazing temple of Tikal, secure in the fact that the world was still continuing on.

The quiet solitude of Tikal

 

Saving the world