As the tiny prop plane banked sharply towards the thick, jungle-covered hillside, I found it difficult to decide exactly where to place my rapidly growing panic. I waffled between my concern over the tiny plane’s ability to stay in the air and my fear over exactly where and how we’d land in the middle of the northern Guatemalan jungle. While most propeller planes in the world aren’t exactly confidence boosters in terms of stability, this Guatemalan version seemed more likely than most to be held together entirely with duct tape and chewing gum.

As we glided low over Lake Péten – distracting me for a moment with its brilliant blue hue and gentle, sandy banks – out of nowhere appeared a tiny airport and an honest-to-god runway, complete with pavement and all. Gratefully, we landed without incident and I shakily pulled my knees out from under my nose and stumbled down the steps to solid ground.

Temple II (Temple of the Masks)

My fiancé, Terry, and I had come to northern Guatemala to explore the ancient Mayan city of Tikal. The ruins of this abandoned and mysterious city were originally discovered in circa 1695 AD by the Spanish colonial powers (who promptly forgot about it again for about 150 years due to its uninhabitable climate and nearly inaccessible location) and then re-discovered by foreign explorers in the late 1840s. The first photos – showing the ruins almost completely covered by the jungle – were taken by a British explorer in the 1880s, yet amazingly, the region could only be reached via horseback until 1951, when the first airstrip was built by the Guatemalan army. Perhaps even more surprising is the fact that the first real excavations and refurbishment of this fantastic place began less than 50 years ago, and some of the larger temples were restored only within the last ten years.

The story of Tikal and its people takes many forms, and can vary wildly depending on whom you talk to, what language you speak, which archaeologists you’ve read, and whether or not you believe in aliens (yes, really, there is a theory that aliens built it). According to the most recent, and believable, archaeological theories, the city of Tikal was first inhabited in 900 BC, and the beginnings of the first stone temple (used for astronomical purposes) was constructed some 400 years later. Tikal began to take shape in its most “modern form” around the first century AD and became a major center for trade, science and religion in the region in the fourth century. A variety of seesaw battles between Tikal and several of its Mayan neighbors (who eventually left the ruins of El Mirador and El Peru, Guatemala, Palenque, Mexico and Copán, Honduras behind) saw its dominance wax and wane, but by the 8^th century AD Tikal had cemented its position as a Mayan “superpower.” During this period, archaeologists estimate that there were approximately 100,000 residents in the city and Tikal’s five main, and extraordinarily grand, temples were built. However, they would not be inhabited for very long. For reasons that are still unknown, somewhere around 900 AD the Mayan civilization collapsed, and within another century the city of Tikal was abandoned. Archaeologists and Mayan historians have posited many theories, including drought or other environmental disaster, but part of Tikal’s bewitching quality is its ability to utterly and completely defy science and technology.

Reaching the utterly charming Hotel Tikal Inn, we were a bit sad that we had to immediately leave for our tour, as the inn’s lovely palm-frond covered bungalows and azure blue swimming pool looked tremendously inviting. We had risen at 4:00am that morning to catch our flight to Tikal, and a brief siesta on a chaise lounge in the warm Guatemalan sun was suddenly overwhelmingly appealing. Nevertheless, we plunged onward.

Temple I (Temple of the Jaguar)

Walking beneath the dense green canopy of the jungle, the air hung thick with moisture, vibrant colors and sounds. Julio, our Guatemalteco guide, conveyed various pieces of the Tikal story as we pricked our ears to hear the sounds of the howler monkeys and dozens of varieties of birds, and walked further into the jungle. Rounding a bend, a massive stone structure suddenly loomed large in front of us. The rear view of Temple I (”Temple of the Jaguar”) caused our entire group to gulp and gasp almost simultaneously.

There are some things in life that you hear about, that perhaps you’ve seen pictures of, heard stories told, or read great detail in books – but somehow the reality of these magical places just cannot be captured artificially. There is simply no way to take the true essence of such a place, transfer it elsewhere, and have it remain authentic. Tikal is without a doubt such a place; its spirit is vast and all-encompassing. Entering the Grand Plaza and gazing upon its centuries old temples, palaces, altars and ancient ball courts, you cannot help but feel incredibly transformed and awed. With absolutely no technology but their brains, and no power but the sun, farm animals and their bodies, the Mayans built the most fantastic of structures; stone by stone, some reaching as tall as 70 meters. We spent the remainder of the day speaking in a whisper, humbled by the size and scope of the work of these mystical people.

Returning to our hotel that evening, we retired to bed early, nearly crumbling ourselves under the weight of the heat and the events of the day. Waking briefly in the middle of the night I opened my eyes, and then quickly closed them again. I opened them once more, and blinked rapidly. There was absolutely no difference at all between the two. The jungle’s syrupy black darkness enveloped everything and absorbed all possible light. It was an eerie and spellbinding feeling. While light had disappeared, it was if a loudspeaker had been placed just outside the bungalow windows. The sounds of the jungle reverberated loudly throughout our room and across the hotel gardens. Crickets, locusts, howler monkeys and dozens of other creatures sang a nocturnal song in the cool evening air. Wanting to soak it all in I tried valiantly, yet unsuccessfully, to stay awake.

Awakening at 5:30am, we rose quickly and raced out to the park. Having heard that a Tikal sunrise is a once in a lifetime gift, we dragged our sleepy bodies quickly through the jungle once more to scale the six steep wooden staircases of Temple IV. Reaching the top, breathless from the climb, we struggled to slow our beating hearts. From high atop our 21-stories tall perch we could see for perhaps a hundred miles, deep into the jungle. The grand ruins of Tikal stood regally off in the distance, the temples rising quietly above the mist, as the animals of the jungle slowly awoke and began to sing and call to one another high atop the trees. We sat quietly, for what seemed like hours, simply watching the sun climb higher in the sky; throwing its warm glow across the tree tops and glancing off the facades of the moss-covered stone palaces.

As we warmed ourselves in the morning light, we were joined by several other travelers. Two young women from France arrived after perhaps thirty minutes, followed by an English couple, and then a very interesting fellow. The latter was wearing dangerously tight purple jeans and a matching purple sleeveless t-shirt, a metal-studded belt, and orange high-top shoes. But perhaps the most interesting part of his early morning appearance was the streaks of red and white greasepaint and bright pink-painted stars on his face. My travel companion and I quickly glanced at each other, and then tried hard not to stare at the new arrival. In San Francisco, our home town, a character like this would not even cause us to blink, but here, at 6:00am in the jungles of Guatemala, we had absolutely no idea what to make of him. Especially the astonishingly precise makeup so early in the day (having gone at least a couple days without a shower myself during our travels).

Shortly, the sounds of song lyrics floated up from the temple steps just a bit below us. At first I thought our new friend was sharing a song he’d written with his companion (dressed ‘normally’ in jeans and a t-shirt, and who had arrived shortly after the former), but then I realized those weren’t new lyrics at all.

Jungle Queen

“First I was afraid, I was petrified, thinking I could never live without you by my side…” came the opening lines from Gloria Gaynor’s mid-80s classic; “I Will Survive.” Terry and I looked at each other once more and nearly split our sides laughing silently in recognition of this great one-hit-wonder. We heard the two men speaking to each other briefly and Terry said, “I think he’s from England,” and I said, “Umm, that’s not an accent honey, he’s just gay.” By all appearances, our new friend was a drag queen, or at the very least, a lounge singer with some killer makeup, who was taking advantage of this rare opportunity to test out the fantastic acoustics of Tikal to practice his act.

As we descended the temple steps, Terry turned to take one final photo of the ruins, and in doing so, captured the dance portion of the Queen’s routine – in full and with a quite dramatic hip-swivel. Shaking our heads, and yet again feeling incredibly lucky for the opportunity to travel and see the world, we walked slowly past the grand temples and home to breakfast. And a nap.