Animals! Animals! Animals! Bombs!

On the 20th we headed to the ruins of Mayapan. We've developed a liking for the "smaller" attractions around here after the vendor/tourist frenzy at Chichen Itza. We were the first visitors to Mayapan that day (at 1:00 pm) and had the whole place to ourselves (as far as humans go) while we explored. We met many animal friends. Like the other posts, all the pics in this one are from the same day unless otherwise specified.
Sorry for all the bad Spanish in the captions, especially the lack of accents :(




("Welcome. I am Hector, the Keeper of Mayapan. Please follow me. I will take you to the ruins.")



Mayapan.




I'm a lizard!




Some cool Mayan paintings.




Ghost town.




...another sentry.




Practicing the crane-kick.




This butterfly was sooooo cool. When we got close it folded its wings to conceal itself. You can't really tell with this close-up, but its outline was almost impossible to see on the ground with its wings folded (unless you tracked it to its landing spot while moving), even from a short distance. It's colors and pattern were perfectly adapted to blend into the ground-background while feeding on those berries (which are also iguana food). The orange dots on top mimic the shape and color of the berries on the ground when its wings are spread. If you zoom in you can make out its cool eyes and proboscis (mouth-noodle/trunk/sucker-thingy).




UP!




Down?




As Karina's friend Arlo pointed out, she inadvertently assumes the posture of Chac-Mool in this picture, the Mayan messenger god.




Ruins. They're GRRRRRREAT!




Another pretty butterfly. They're also everywhere down here.




This gruta at Mayapan was all roped off and guarded by iguanas.

("This is my cave. Please keep out. If you're looking for bananas, find them somewhere else.")



Since no one was around to protest (other than the iguanas), Justin went down to check it out. Several of the ruins' Keepers hissed as he climbed in (freaking him out). Here he's trying to figure out how to snatch a banana out of a tree.




Take that iguanas!




Carvings.






("My name is Pedro. Visit The Hut of Flying Animals if you like.")



Yeah, so we took Pedro's advice and went to this hut to check out the statue inside. The statue didn't hold our interest after two bats clumsily flew out in surprise, flapping without coordination, hitting the ground and sides of ruins as they fled (we woke them up).




They left their buddy behind.




And some parent birdies up in the corner.




And a gigantic moth whose body was about three and a half inches long.

("Don't bother me. I'm sleeping too.")



And another parent birdie in the other corner.






("Geez! It's hot!")



These pretty trees are all over the peninsula.




These butterflies were taking a drink by the entrance to Mayapan as we left.




Jungle-burning to clear the plants away from the road. We were on our way North to some cenotes in Cuzama.




A ruin in the middle of the city of Acanceh, on the way to Cuzama.




What a rooster!

("The cenotes are this way. May God be with you, foreigners.")



This took us down a dirt road in Cuzama that Karina had researched. We had four cenotes on a list to visit, but we didn't get to any of them because there were way more cenotes down there than we knew about. We're hoping to get back to see them all before we leave Merida for good.




The first cenote not on our list.




We didn't go down (thank goodness), but we took some pictures.




The second cenote not on our list, and the last we had a chance to see that day (it was getting late).






("You have arrived at Aktun-Ha Cenote. Mind the bomb.")



Bomb? What was that turkey talking about? Well, he was talking about the same bomb that this turkey (the owner of the other turkeys, and also the owner of the cenote) was talking about.

He told us when we got there, "Just go down, quick. You can pay later and I'll lower your stuff down in a minute. The bomb is about to go off." We thought we misunderstood him. We asked for further explanation, but he just kept casually referring to some impending explosion with a combination of some reference to our safety and reassurance that everything would be fine. This confused us. We asked a French tourist who was sunbathing next to the cenote opening if he knew what the heck he was talking about and he thought he was misunderstanding us (we were all speaking Spanish. It's been nice meeting Europeans because we always have at least one language in common so far.).

The three of us began to probe our host with further questions. He started getting antsy since the time for detonation was approaching. After a little effort we figured out that some men were clearing a road some distance away with explosives, and that everyone in town (but us) knew about it. The worry wasn't that the blast was dangerous, since it would be above ground and small, just that the debris could fly for kilometers in all directions and randomly strike anyone dead who wasn't taking cover.

We kept asking (before we fully grasped what was going on), "So, is it dangerous or not?" His reply was something like, "No, no, no. The bomb isn't dangerous. It's the flying rocks that can kill you."
Hmmmm. We asked if our car could get hit where it was parked. He just giggled to himself and ducked behind a tree...

We took shelter in our rental car and listened to several blasts go off in the distance. Just before that, we saw a couple of locals in our rear-view mirror running for cover down the dirt road from which we had just entered the cenote/turkey farm. When we got out after it was over our host pointed out a small rock that landed within feet of the cenote entrance. He also related a story about another blast from the day before when a cantaloupe-sized rock landed between his feet and those of his friends when they chose not to hide themselves from the falling sky. He thought the whole thing was hilarious. We thought it was a good thing we had left the deserted cenote we were at ten minutes earlier so that we wouldn't have been out in the open, listening to explosions without explanation, while melon-stones pummeled the ground around us...

Anyway, back to the cenote.




A slippery climb down a make-shift ladder is always best after a near-death experience, don't you think?




For those that don't know, Justin is scared of heights, and that's exactly why he likes challenging that particular survival mechanism. Karina, on the other hand, has to remind herself that certain death waits below if she were to fall from a climb like this; it's not automatic in her case (lucky).




When will it END?




*pant, pant, pant* At least we're safe from bomb shrapnel.




Stuuuuuurdy.




Totally worth it.




It's hard to get any size relativity from pictures like this one, but that stalactite on the right is about 15 feet long.




Alien landscape.




Ceiling shrapnel waiting to fall...




We named them all. ALL of them.




And Justin took a swim.




These turkeys were like Wal-Mart greeters.

("Thanks for coming!")



Yummy!




Winnar!




Back to Merida.