Two relaxing days in the 'Ciudad Amarilla'

 

It's a peaceful Monday morning, sunrise bird songs and whistles have quietened down, the swish-swish of a broom in the courtyard the only sound close by, cars and mopeds on the street hardly noticeable. It feels good to be here! Walking to and from town yesterday (our hotel is about seven blocks from the centre) I thought how, as so often, Latin America is a place to make me feel good. A nod, a smile, a 'buen' día' is almost always offered or returned. People look you in the eye when they say it, the smile crinkling their eyes, white teeth shining in dark faces that, here in the country of the Maya, are in some cases at the level of my waist. They laugh easily and enjoy company, and that is passed on to those they encounter.

As we had hoped when we first planned the beginning of our trip the two days we spent here were exactly what we needed: we are well rested now, got a lot of sleep, started to adjust to the humidity and heat (as much as that's possible for us northerners) and got used to walking and orientating ourselves in town. It likely would have been even better without the stop in Valladolid, but all is well.

We had chosen our hotel for its location – easily walkable from the bus station – and were not disappointed either by what the description had promised: it is quiet, very clean, with a nice garden area surrounding the outdoor pool. What we hadn't expected was that once again we seem to be the only guests. It must have to do with the fact that it's not yet high season here. In two weeks things might well look different.

 

Izamal, also called 'the yellow city' or 'ciudad amarilla', is rightfully named so: at least in and close to the centre of town all buildings seem to glow in the sun, beautifully offset against the blue sky. According to the Lonely Planet, for the Maya this was the centre of worship of their supreme god Itzamná and the sun god Kinich-Kakmó in ancient times, and, recognizing the importance of this place, the Spanish built a huge monastery here, using the stones of the Maya temples. Yet, a few of the temple ruins remain, Kinich being the biggest one, right in town. We climbed up the first afternoon, joining a good many other visitors, and enjoyed a good view from the 34 m pyramid. It's a bit strange to see cell phone towers and windmills on a distant ridge from the top of a pyramid, a quite different experience from our hike to El Mirador several years ago, or even Chichen-Itza or Tikal. On the other hand it's fascinating to think that the descendants of the people who built this are now offering us accommodation, sell us fruit and water, serve us in restaurants. Now, Izamal is surrounded by dense vegetation; then, the area had been stripped of trees for many, many miles to make room for temples and the people they served. It's hard to believe that the view from where we stood would have been so drastically different before the decline of the Maya empire twelve hundred years ago.

Yesterday we walked up the ramp to the monastery from the plaza, strolled along the arcades, supposedly the second biggest after St. Peter's in Rome (not sure if this is true) and went into the church, empty in the afternoon after the service in the morning when it was filled to the last spot. Its famous statue of the Virgin Mary was gifted with a crown by Pope John Paul II at his visit and is supposed to have healing powers, thus a destination for pilgrims. Right now the statue can be admired from close up, beside the altar; usually it is located somewhere higher up. It is still a functioning cloister, and nuns were selling handicrafts and religious articles in a little store beside the church.

Outside the convent square, at the bottom of the ramp, the fair was in full swing, music blasting from all sides – a strange juxtaposition.

Late in the afternoon,when it had cooled down a bit, we hiked up to the top of the pyramid once more. We waited at its base until a tour group had descended and now were almost the only ones to see the full moon rise on the opposite side of where the sun had just gone down. Swallows twittered all around, hunting for insects, joined by a few dragonflies. I was glad we came back to this.

At the bottom we found the big iron gate secured with a lock. Now what? Right across were stores with people we probably could alert. Or maybe we could find a way around the gate somewhere? No, within a couple of minutes a man came with a key and opened up the gate. We told him that there was another couple still up on the pyramid and went on our way. He likely has to deal with that on a regular basis.

 

On the way back to the main square we passed an open door from which loud music flooded the street. The day before we had gazed in in passing already, and I said to Johann, “this must be where the locals drink.” This time we were ushered in by a solicitous man, tempting us with 'cerveza, tequila, mescal, margerita?' A beer felt just right, even though the music was almost unbearably loud, and we gave in. A 1.2l (!) bottle of 'Tecate Light' appeared on our table immediately, followed by a few little bowls of snacks in part of unclear origin. 'Poc-chu - pork,' we were told, which, I found out later, is a Mayan dish where pork is marinated in sour orange. It was good, in any case, and we didn't get sick from it either. This was indeed a spot where the locals came to drink: not a tourist in sight, although at some point a man approached us in English. “How do you like my city?” he asked. “I'm Emilio, lived in the US for fifteen years, but now I'm back in my town.” He tried to invite us to another beer, but this was just enough to quench our thirst.

Today it is overcast but no less hot, as we found on our way to a hotel on the square for breakfast. It's almost time to leave. If all goes well we should be in Ticul, another small town south/southwest from here. No direct bus goes there, and we have to change in Mérida, travelling time altogether no more than three hours. Tonight we'll know more.