Day 16 June 7
Flores and Lake Petén Itzá
Flores is the capital of Guatemala's vast but sparsely-populated Petén region. It is beautifully set in the middle of
Lake Petén Itzá. A wide bridge connects it to the mainland villages of Santa Elena and
San Benito. Low-lying hills and dense rainforest provide a backdrop of scenic inaccesibility.
This is where the last independent lowland Maya, the Itzá, resisted the Spanish for almost two centuries longer than their compatriots elsewhere. Here once stood the Itzá capital and center of resistance, Tayasal (or Nojpeten, as the Maya called it). When the conquistador Cortes passed by the city, he left a sick horse behind, which was subsequently worshipped as a god by the Itzá. Often seen as as a sign of Maya simple-mindedness, this incident might also show that the Itzá were not impressed with the white-skinned riders, whom they held in lower regard than their horses. Towards the end of the seventeenth century, the Spanish, led by the ambitious Martín de Ursúa, resolved to crush the last Maya kingdom. Realizing that the Itzás' strength lay in their isolated jungle location, they built a road connecting Campeche in Mexico to Lake Petén Itzá. The so-called camino real (royal road) was little more than a path hacked through the forest. At a great cost in men and material, the Spaniards built a galeota (small warship) with cannon along the banks of the lake, and were ready for the final assault. After a few hours of bloody fighting, the conquistadors were masters of the land. But it was to prove a phyrric victory: Spanish cruelty and European diseases, to which the indigenas had no resistance, would depopulate the new colony. In the end, the Spanish would have few subjects to rule over, and little of the gold they so viciously sought. The conquest of the Itzá, resulting only in the senseless decimation of a heroic people, was one of history's most terrible tragedies. Despite the turbulent past, nowadays, the pace of life here is much more relaxed. Flores is one of the sleepiest capitals that I have visited. Under the fierce early afternoon sun, its streets empty as residents seek the shade of houses or trees. The mostly one-storey buildings with corrugated iron roofs, and the relative lack of colonial-style architecture, give the small city a makeshift, frontier-land appearance. Still, an air of mystery and defiance hangs over the place. People speak with great pride about the Maya past. During a ride through the lake, even our launch operator could talk volumes about recent archaeological discoveries in the region. "If you want to know where the Itzá went," an old pharmacy owner told me, "just look all around you." The Itzá had resisted conquest for so long. Even after their final defeat, they would rise in a brave but abortive attempt to expel the Spanish invaders. No wonder their descendants today still retain vivid memories of the ancestral resistance. Certainly, the past clings tenaciously to the present; countless Maya tombs and remains have been found here, and many more remain hidden in the nearby forest.
In Santa Elena, we found lodging in a hotel with large communal bathrooms. Most windows were open, providing easy entry for many creatures of the rainforest. Again, mosquito nets shielded us at night from pests. Despite the effort at ventilation, our room was dusty and uncomfortably hot. The mattresses were made of kapok, the fluff of the ceiba fruit, a material that may be sacred to the Maya, but to me was repulsive and highly allergenic. Compared to this, our moldy hammocks and primitive accommodations at Tikal were kingly comforts indeed. I passed an unpleasant but otherwise uneventful night. Dawn brought a brief respite from the heat. After breakfast, it was time for some "cold" water to revive our flagging spirits. I found it a little strange taking a shower with a large toad croaking within arm's length. But the amphibian discretely kept its distance, and I enjoyed the best ablution I ever had in the Petén. (If you have a phobia of critters, then drop Flores from your itinerary. Even in the restroom at Flores airport, I found a grasshopper at least eight inches long, which was enough to shock Madjid when I pointed it out to him.) |
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