disconnected

It was a 6am start as we drove out from Flores and headed over to Tikal to see the wonders of the Mayan temples. Tikal is the largest Mayan site in all of Central America with many pyramids still currently being excavated.

Our guide's name is Jose and he is a knowledgeable older man. During the tour, he talks about the process of sacrificing a human. One of the most common sacrifices that are made to please the Gods is to kill the most beautiful girl in the village.




When it calls for it - Shamans, priests, and older wise men in the town would get together to choose which beautiful girl would be sacrificed. She would be then prepared mentally, spiritually, and physically until she reaches a certain age knowing that at a specific date all will be no more. She will obviously be willing to do this - nobody is forced. Back in the day, it was an honor to be chosen so there were little to no complaints. On the night of the ritual, the beautiful girl is given special tea (mushroom tea; hallucinogenic) to be closer to God. Shamans will also drink this tea in order to see prophecies.
Because the Mayans believed in reincarnation, the girl being sacrificed knows that she will be back soon...but only different. Instead of coming back a human, she will come back as an animal. Depending on the day that she dies, she will be reincarnated as whatever animal is designated to that day.
For example, if today was the day of the raven and girl A dies...she will be then come back to the world as a raven.

Towards the end of the tour of Tikal, we were given free time to roam the main plaza. Instead of going around and climbing the pyramids, I decide to sit beside Jose on a set of steps. I picked his brain and asked a million other questions. He tells me about the other kind of festivals the Mayans would do to mark the equinox, traditions, treatment towards women, etc.

I sat on the ground and looked around as tourists wandered the pyramids to take photos. I tried to imagine these people not as tourists...but Mayans going about daily life.
They weren't holding cameras. In their arms, instead, were crops that were being harvested. The girls sitting in the corner (as if shunned) were sitting alone because they are on their menstruation cycle. Obviously they are important enough to have been invited by the important priests and shamans (regardless of the bad luck they're bringing to the festivities by losing blood) but they sit quietly in the corner and do/eat as they are told. Men gather and drink the concoction that they've fermented themselves and share a laugh.
I quickly snap out of it and realize that I'm surrounded by foreign faces and hear languages of the world; my imagination moment has passed.

We headed back to Flores. On the drive back, my mind was still whirring. Not about what I just saw or learned, but about back home in Vancouver. At the beginning of this trip, I was a bit sad about what happened the night I was leaving for Central America...but now my feelings have changed; I feel like I will be coming home to nothing/nobody. For so long now (we're talking years) I've been attempting to become "disconnected". Living in a high-tech world where facebook messages are at the tip of my fingers through my cell phone...text messages are an all-day thing...e-mails run constantly...i am always connected - never off. I am always readily available, partially because I feel obligated. Now that I've forced myself to partially disconnect, I feel like the others back home have separated from me as much as I have separated from them. There's a space between us now and I'm not sure I want it filled. It's time that I fill my emptiness with myself and be able to stand solid.
I receive picture text messages on my mobile from back home of holiday-festivities and am sad to not have been able to partake. But I'm down only momentarily as I ask myself, why am I sad to not be back home? I look around and almost force myself to appreciate my surroundings. As much as I try, I can't lie, a part of me still wanted to be back in Vancouver with my old life. Getting rid of my FMS syndrome (fear-of-something syndrome) is still a work in progress.

That being said, I decided that a night out in town would cure it all. I feared that I would miss something about Flores (how ironic). After hitting up the town's basketball game in the plaza and a couple of bars for happy hour drinks, slowly others decided to call it a night and headed home. It was Otto and I left and neither of us were wanting to miss anything. We bounced around to and from a reggaeton night club, a live-band bar, and a salsa warehouse party. All of which we randomly found just wandering around the town. My buzz had worn off and we became observers of the night.

Others around us were with their regular group of friends and calling/texting others to tell them where the party's at. I couldn't relate to it anymore. I felt like "Encino Man - so out of place but insisting on embracing what was there in front of me.
Eventually, we called it a night and head back to the hotel. Tonight, I go to bed not wanting to miss what I have in front of me. The possibilities will present themselves as they come. How can I miss what I do not see? FMS syndrome?...no thanks.

I'll be drinking my tea in the meantime. Though it's no hallucinogenic, I'll be back home soon...but only different.