Tikal, November 13, 2006

Jungle path at dawn
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I awoke abruptly at 4:30am. I heard someone knocking on hotel doors and realized guests were being awakened for the sunrise tour of the ruins. I’d been approached about the tour but had declined, reluctantly. I wasn’t sure I could make the long trek without stopping to rest along the way, and that would hold up the others. Also, everyone in the tour would be climbing the tallest pyramid, Temple IV, for the view of the sunrise. I’d decided not to attempt the climb in the daylight, much less the night.

Tikal's Group G. Can you make out the stones from the earth?
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Already awake, I thought I might as well get up. I prayed, read my Bible, and ate some packaged cookies I’d bought at one of the comedores. I missed milk to drink, but even if I’d decided to throw caution to the wind and drink some, there was none to be had. I’d planned to bring cereal and powdered milk but didn’t have room in the two small pieces of luggage I’d chosen for the trip. I applied sunscreen and Deet, readied my backpack with guides and food (packaged meat and cheese crackers), got a full bottle of water, donned my binoculars and hat, and was out the door before dawn, wearing a headlamp.

Tikal's Group G. Long tunnel through stone
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I paid my daily fee at the guard’s hut and entered the forest, excited to be birding. At the second guard’s hut I turned north toward Uaxactun, birding along the road. I didn’t see a lot of birds, though, and trucks filled with workers kept passing on the narrow road, so I backtracked and made my way into the ruins via the path that led to Temple VI. About a third of the way from the entrance to that path, a small path branched to the right. It wasn’t noted on any of the several maps I had. The path was dedicated to some man (can’t remember the name), and had signs posted every so often explaining the use of certain plants and trees (in Spanish, for the most part). About halfway through this side path I ran into lots and lots of mosquitoes. Everything on me was covered except my hands and face (I always wore long sleeves and pants, regardless of the heat). Fortunately, I had brought some lightweight gloves and a mosquito net that fit over my hat, covering my face. I quickly put them on, wondering how I would be able to see through the net with my binoculars. Surprisingly, the net didn’t hamper my view very much at all. I was very grateful I had brought it.

Path opening onto Great Plaza
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The side path came to an end near Group G, the excavated ruins I had seen my first day at Tikal (and where I’d seen my first fox). From there, the path led to the Great Plaza. For a while I watched flocks of parrots and oropendolas there. Then I headed for the Lost World, via Temple V and the Plaza of the Seven Temples. I’d heard the roar of a troop of Howler Monkeys and wanted to get a look at them again. The first time I’d seen them they had been quietly feeding in the trees overhead. On the way I spotted a pair of foxes.

Temple at Great Plaza. Steep steps!
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When I reached the Lost World (getting close to the roaring monkeys but not spotting them), I climbed the smaller of the two pyramids (not a hard climb), hoping for a better look into the canopy at some small birds flitting about. They turned out to be Yellow-throated and Olive-backed Euphonias—a flock of about ten or twenty.  After that, I walked to Temple IV and looked around the site, but I didn’t have the courage, or energy, to climb it. A vendor was there, though, and I bought some ice-cold pop and cookies.

Coming upon Temple V
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It occurred to me, after birding for a while longer, that I should return to the hotel to see if they were going to let me stay. If not, I would have to be out by 1pm, the checkout time. Last evening I had explained my case to a Tikal official. I had met him the day before when I was birding near the hotels. He had pointed out to me some birds in a tree, and I had loaned him and his friends my binoculars. When I saw him again last evening I thought maybe he might intervene on my behalf with the Jaguar Inn. He said he knew the manager, who was to return the next day, and would speak to him if he saw him.

Plaza of the Seven Temples. Lots of work going on here
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I headed out of the ruins by the roadway, hoping to see a truck that would give me a lift. One soon passed and I waved it down. They let me ride in the open cab, standing along with two workers. It was great fun! I had to hold on tight to keep from falling while the truck bounced along over the rutted road. The breeze felt wonderful!

When I walked into the lobby of the hotel (still playing the two Eagles’ songs) the same desk clerk told me I could stay as long as I liked. Just like that. He didn’t offer an explanation and I didn’t ask for one. He asked for my passport again, and I reminded him that he had it. He couldn’t take my credit card, because the electricity was off again, nor could he cash any traveler’s checks. Later that afternoon I overheard two guests talking. One was telling the other that he was leaving a day earlier than expected because a group had arrived and the hotel had given them his room. I felt a twinge of guilt, thinking that I might have been the cause for his departure, but he didn’t seem unhappy that he had to move on.

Not having energy enough to make a second long walk into the ruins, I went to a different comedore for a late lunch. The food was O.K. I had some kind of pollo (chicken), since I knew the word in Spanish. None of the food was ever prepared ahead, so it was always quite a wait to eat. The food probably tasted better that way, but I was more interested in birding than food. Actually, the specials probably were prepared ahead of time for lunch, but I never arrived in time to order them. Two German girls were at the next table and I invited them to join me but they declined. They were busily sharing stories in their native tongue and I didn’t blame them for not wanting to struggle with a foreign language. It was tiring.

Suddenly the sky darkened and, within minutes, it was pouring. Although it had rained frequently during my trip, usually at night, I had never been inconvenienced by it. By the time I was finished eating it had stopped raining and the sun was shining brightly again. Walking from the comedore to the hotel I tried to keep beneath trees for shade. The sun was intense. I stopped at the lobby to see if they could now change my checks. “Later,” they said; they didn’t have enough quetzals. I asked if they had Internet or phones for long distance calls. “Neither,” they said. A stop at the Jungle Lodge gave the same results, although they said the Tikal Inn had Internet. When I got there they said their Internet had been down all week. Phone calls were a dollar a minute and they couldn’t guarantee a good connection. I called home anyway. The connection was so bad I could hardly hear what my family was saying, so I only talked for nine minutes. At least they knew I was safe.

Back at my room at the Jaguar Inn I checked on the clothes I had washed. The pants and shirts were dry enough to finish off with the hairdryer, but the socks were still quite wet. I walked back to the lobby area to see if any English-speaking tourists were around, hoping for a conversation. I found a man from Switzerland who spoke English well and we talked for an hour or so. I didn’t know much about Switzerland, and I enjoyed learning about his country.

On my way back to my room to go to bed, I noticed that the hotel workers were again gathered around a table, noisily playing cards and checkers. I wondered why the hotel management didn’t suggest that they move their table to an area farther away from the rooms, so as not to disturb the guests. I said nothing, though, and just closed my window (no breeze, again) and listened to my “comfort” tape before falling asleep.