Tales of a Travel Photographer

Square Tower House Ruins, Mesa Verde National Park

2013-04-10T15:51:30-07:00

A four story ancient adobe tower nestles in the alcove below the rim I am standing in Mesa Verde National Park. Constructed in the mid 1200s, Square Tower House was the tallest man-made structure in the United States of America until mid 1800s!

From the edge of the slickrock, looking down at the Anasazi village, I feel like I am looking down into a petri dish through a microscope. The ruins don’t look like real buildings. They look like a scaled down display model, that architects create as prototypes, ones that are found in in museums halls. Time and weather has not crumpled their roofs to dust. Rather, the roofs were never built, gaping holes left open intentionally to peer inside.

How I wish I were standing here in the middle of the 12th century, somehow magically, retaining my gleaming air-conditioned automobile parked a few feet away, and my phone. (Who would I call though?)

Then, as the sun peeps over the horizon, and the sun rays slowly light up the valley, I would hear the unmistakable shuffling of feet. A door creaks open and a head pops out. A turkey squawks somewhere in the brush. Pungent white smoke escapes from a trapezoidal window, the dry pinyon crackling as it catches fire. A child wails, quickly muted against his mother’s teat.

Then, I would be the only non-ancestral pueblon to have seen an Anasazi village slowly coming to life.

Tikal NP, Guatemala Copan and Roatan, Honduras Trip Summary

2013-01-19T18:40:22-08:00

Evocative Mayan ruins in a lush jungle, a quaint lazy colonial town and a tropical Caribbean beach – summarizes the theme of this trip.

It started with visiting a key Maya site, Tikal National Park on winter solstice of 2012 when a major Mayan calendar period was complete. A diving adventure, an incentive for Rhea, made Roatan necessary and my research brought me across an enterprising artist called Catherwood, which made a stop at Copan in Honduras necessary. Lot of hiking, lichen painted ruins in vine shrouded jungle, colorful macaws, hospitable people, warm sand, blue water, mind blowing sunrises and sunsets made this trip well rounded and memorable.

(At the age of 11,) Rhea puts it in her top three vacations of all times.

Preparing for a 2-week trip with only carry-on luggage

The preparation for the Guatemala-Honduras trip took several months. The area is only is on the map for backpackers. Information available on the web is very sketchy. Plus language is a huge barrier. I, typically, tend to reserve hotels and then call the concierge to get detailed local information. In this case, finding English speaking staff at the hotels was time consuming and did not always produce the results I expected. The tourism industry in the two countries is still evolving leading to teething problems like national flights not being coordinated with international flights or bus timings not connecting well with flights. That meant evenings spent in touch down hotels, and daytimes lost in transport.

The three places on our itinerary are not well connected. We had to take several national flights and cross-country busses. We decided to travel light so that we did not have to check-in our luggage.

That meant limiting the number of clothes we took with us and carrying ones that would dry easily. Hence a thanksgiving shopping spree for neoprene stuff.

While travelling light had its challenge – requiring discipline to wash and dry clothes daily, given the super humid climate in Tikal; overall, it made life a lot more easy. On most occasions, we were walking out of an airport or a bus terminal even before the conveyor belt had warmed up. Here is a link to comprehensive checklist of items to take on a Guatemala/ Honduras trip.

Day 1: Arrival in Guatemala City

19 Dec 2012: Our Seattle-LA-Guatemala Delta flight was uneventful other than the long layover in LAX. We arrived at 7am in Guatemala City and caught a cab to Hotel Princess Guatemala. I patted myself on the back for booking a hotel for a few hours of stay because I had not slept a wee bit on flight. As is her usual habit, Rhea had pushed up the armrest in between and curled up on my thighs, trying to get supine. She could do it easily when she was little, but at five feet and something, she struggled. Every time I moved even a little bit, she displayed her displeasure by clucking like a hen.

After catching four hours of much needed sleep, we still have 4 hours to cut before out flight to Flores. We walked to the Popol Vuh museum, just a few blocks away and got a wonderful orientation to the Maya world we were about to see. The museum is tiny, like most museums in Guatemala we would visit later, but made up for quantity with quality artifacts.

Our favorite article was a three legged ceremonial bowl from the classic period, much like the pot that sits on our apothecary table back home.

Arriving in Tikal National Park

In the evening. on the first day, we took the short Taca flight to Flores, Petén. At the tiny Flores airport, we caught a cab to take us to Tikal National park, 50 kilometers and 80 minutes away.

Thankfully, it was dark by the time we arrived at the National Park. That way we did not end up with an accidental drive-by view of a a ruin. We got a good introduction of the dense tropical jungle canopy that we would have to cut through over the next few days..

We had chosen Jungle Lodge for our three day stay at Tikal National Park; not for its most economic room rates nor for proximity to the trail to the ancient city of Tikal but because Tikal Lodge has a place in history itself. The Lodge was born out of the campsite used by the mid-twentieth century explorers and excavators like Edward Shook.

It was comforting to lay down in bed where they once did.

Day 2: Uaxactun and Yaxaha

20 Dec 2012: In morning, we met Roxy Ortiz, who would guide us over the next few days. Roxy has a degree in archeology from the San Carlo university and is participated during the dry months at a dig 40kms from Tikal that is being guided by David Stuart, my one of my favorite Mayanist.

Breathlessly she told us that we had to change our plan. Tikal was being prepared for a hurriedly arranged Presidential ceremony for B’aktun. Instead she drove us to Uaxactun (pronounced Wah-shak-toon), 22 KMs north of Tikal where we experienced the oldest known Mayan astronomical observatory and told us the amazing story of the first ever Mayan “star war.”

In the afternoon, we drove to Yaxaha (pronounced Yah-sha-ha) to experience a quite sunset on top of a Mayan Pyramid.

By the time we can back, Tikal was nearly sealed to receive the President of Guatemala and we were relieved we were not caught in the melee. Uaxactun and Yaxaha are definitely the best day-trips from Tikal National Park.

Day 3: B’actun @ Tikal (Finally!)

21 Dec 2012: Roxy picked us up at 4:30am at the head of the Tikal trail. Thousands of Guatemalans had descended on Tikal after the President declared free passage adding to the crowd that had gathered for the turning of the Mayan long count calendar. The Royal Plaza was lit up like a Christmas tree and loudspeakers blared ceremonial music. We circumnavigated the Plaza, and settled on a temple-pyramid to see the sunrise over the Lost World Pyramid.

Passing through throngs of chanting crowd, we climbed Temple IV to get a view of Mayan temples peep out of the jungle foliage amidst swirling mist. The sun never peeped over of the cloud cover.

In the afternoon, with Roxy again, we took trekked through the jungle emerging at the Twin Pyramid Complex. We then walked through the central Acropolis climbing ancient stairs and peeping into rooms two thousand years old, passing by a special building that Rhea and I would later explore , emerging in the Royal Plaza. The plaza was still crowded as the park service tried to clear the mess left by the ceremony. I got a first good look at the Grand Jaguar (Temple 1) and Lady Twelve Macaws’ mortuary temple (Temple II.) Over the next few days, I would come here again and again to enjoy the iconic buildings in different lights. We then found a quite spot on the North Acropolis and enjoyed a quite sunset.

Day 4: Tikal National Park by ourselves

22 Dec 2012: It rained heavily in the morning I sat in the verandah and watched the heavens wash down the foliage. I don’t know when it stopped raining because the jungle continued to drip moisture late into the morning. I let little Rhea sleep-in till she could not sleep anymore. I was not being benevolent. I need some R&R myself.

In the afternoon, refreshed, we took to the Tikal trail by ourselves. We stuck out our thumb at a passing army vehicle and got dropped at Temple IV. We lazily walked the routes that were by now familiar to us. We arrived at the Royal Plaza to find it mainly to ourselves.

We spent time exploring the North Acropolis and then on a inspiration, went looking for the Grand Jaguar Claw’s family residence.

Then we managed to stay back after all other people had been shooed away and proceeded to “paint” the Grand Jaguar “with light”

Day 5: Sunrise at Tikal. At last!

23 Dec 2012: I let Rhea sleep late and took to the Tikal trail at 4:30am. I climbed Temple IV for once last time, at least for this trip, and was rewarded with a booming sunrise, the first of the new era. I visited my favorite spots in Tikal National Park and walked back to Jungle lodge to pack up.

We visited the two tiny museums at Tikal to experience my most favorite stelae and altars. A chicken bus took us back to Flores, a Taca flight to Guatemala city and a taxi to Hotel Guatemala Princess.

Honduras tomorrow!

Day 6: Copan Ruinas and the beautiful boutique hotel Yat B’alam

24 Dec 2012: A Hedman Alas bus took us to the Guatemala-Honduras border. We got our entry visa stamped and crossed the border on foot. Copan Ruinas is a 15 minute drive from the border.

Rhea was super excited when we entered our hotel, Yat B’alam. With just four rooms and a beautiful décor, the hotel deserves to call itself boutique. To top that, Rina and he staff made our stay super comfortable.

I fell in love with the lovely colonial town immediately. 6 square blocks, an airstrip, a church and a soccer field, that’s Copan Ruinas for you. Clean, quaint with many small eateries and shops. The atmosphere was extremely festive as Copan prepared to welcome Christmas. People were out on the streets. Cars had their windows rolled down, music playing loudly on the stereos.

They were still bursting crackers when we fell asleep. .

Day 7: The Maya Ruins of Copan

25 Dec 2012: No wonder, back in 1850s, when John Lloyd Steven first came to Copan, he bought the site outright for $50. If I could, I would too. The Mayan ruins at Copan are a gem.

Compared to the towering structures at Tikal, Copan is puny. But the quality of the carvings makes up for the lack of size. Our guide Giovanni, yesterday, called Copan the Paris of Maya times. I second that metaphor.

I followed Catherwood’s footsteps and tried to recreate some of his earliest paintings of Copan. It is a shame Catherwood never went to Tikal. A post-it note has been stuck on a mental board to follow him to Palenque and Uxmal at some point in the future.

We also visited Macaw Mountain in the afternoon on Rhea’s insistence. Enjoyed it.

Click here to read the details and see more photos.

Day 8: Cross Country Dash to Roatan, via La Cieba

26 Dec 2012: Another 4:00am alarm to catch another Hedman Alas bus that took us to San Pedro Sula in 3 hours.

A 2 hour layover, a change of bus and upgrade to first class meant the remaining 3 hour journey to the coastal city of La Cieba was confortable. We took a taxi to the ferry terminal and booked our one way ticket to Roatan. Relief! The ferry ride was the only un-booked part of our itinerary, the ferry company unable to book our tickets online for reasons incomprehensible to me.

We bought fresh grapes and easily cut the couple of hours before we could board. Once on the boat, we spent the better part of the 80 minute journey on the port gangway breathing in the cool breeze coming in from the Caribbean.

We were put up at the Luna Beach Resort because it had a PADI certified dive center. Three days of nothing on the calendar. I am so not used to doing nothing …

Day 9,10,11: Tropical Beaches of Roatan, Honduras

27-29 Dec 2012: Lying in a hammock of the covered verandah of our cabin, the water of the Caribbean lapping a few feat away, drugged, partly the afternoon heat, partly the excellent Pina Colada, I was liking the doing nothing part. Yonder, Rhea had donned her scuba mask and was snorkel along the beach for sea shells.

One afternoon we went to the nearby Anthony’s Key resort to snorkel with the dolphins. another one we took the dive boat to Bikini point where Rhea experienced the Caribbean marine life. Though mostly, we lay back and relaxed in the glorious sun and sand.

Day 12: A Stop at San Pedro Sula

30 Dec 2012:

The Story of Lord Smoking Frog and the Star Wars of Uaxactun

2013-01-19T16:45:12-08:00

“Don’t they all look the same? Do you have to got to each one of them? Isn’t seeing one like seeing them all?” My friend, who I will not name, asked.

I stared at him in disbelief. Upon being inquired, I was excitedly showing him all the Mayan pyramids and temples I was planning to visit during our trip to Guatemala. I searched for a suitable answer but all I could remember is a story I had heard when I was a kid. A man confessed to a English professor that he had never read Shakespeare’s work. The professor, aghast, promptly responded. “Dear sir! That in itself is your punishment!”

At first glace, the Mayan temples and pyramids can look similar. But each pyramid, every temple has a unique history, a different story. I was going there to visit the stories, not just the ruins. [Do all the Russian turtles look alike? Ask my eleven year old and expect a 15 minute discourse on how different her two turtles are.]

In Uaxactun, our archeologist-guide, Roxy drove us to a structure complex not too far away from the principle ruins. We walked through the jungle between a myriad of mounds, each, apparently, an unexcavated historical ruin. We cleared the jungle and came to a massive Mayan pyramid. We rested a while on the steps munching power bars and gulping down ice cold water while Roxy told Rhea the most amazing story of Lord Smoking Frog.

I wandered around as I already knew the story. Linda Schele in her epic book A Forest of Kings has dedicated an entire chapter to it.

In Linda Shele’s own words, “Located less than twelve miles away – not even a day’s walk – Tikal and Uaxactun were perhaps too closely situated for both of them to become kingdoms of the first rank. Their competition was resolved in A.D. 378 by means of an innovative type of a warfare we call Tlaloc-Venus, or sometime simply ‘star wars.’”

In the Mayan hemisphere, in the 4th century of the common era, the war was of gigantic proportion, probably comparable to the nuclear decimation of the Japanese cities by the United States in WWII. So gigantic that the Maya continued to describe it on their monuments for 125 years after the war.

In their time, Maya fought wars to capture their enemies and bring them back in order to sacrifice them, for they believed sacrificing royal blood promised the easiest passage in the afterworld. This war was different, and hence important, in more than one ways.

Tikal was ruled by a powerful ahau called Great-Jaguar-Paw. Uaxactun had an illustrious ruler too; sadly his name has been lost in the passage of time. We do not know what triggered the war: Was Uaxactun needling Tikal by repeatedly trespassing ? Or was Tikal itching to use the weaponry she had acquired through recent association with the western empire of Teotihuacan? We will never know. What we know is the precise date, Jan 11 378 CE, when Tikal obliterated Uaxactun and we know exactly how.

While the two armies took a break after a fiercely fought session of hand to hand combat, such a break being the norm of warfare, Tikal pulled out a deadly surprise. A fresh battalion had been hiding in the nearby jungle armed with atlatls. Flaunting the rule of “peace at break” and using the hunting spear, Tikal quickly brought Uaxactun down on their knees. As was the ritual, the entire royal family was subdued and packed off to Tikal to face the sacrificial axe. The city was sacked. Every male over the age of 5 was killed.

Breaking another tradition of leaving a vanquished city to rot, Lord Smoking Frog, the commander of Tikal’s battle forces, assumed the role of the ahau of Uaxactun. Hence Uaxactun is the first known city to be annexed in the Mayan civilization.

The pyramid we climbed is Lord Smoking Frog’s throne-temple. We wandered through the very room Lord Smoking Frog must have walked. We sat on the exact terrace he sat, a spot from where, over the canopy of the tropical jungle, he could see the roof combs of the temples of his beloved Tikal. Lord Smoking Frog ruled Uaxactun for several years. Great-Jaguar-Paw, the ahau of Tikal, died within two years of the war, but his clan wielded supreme clout for hundreds of years to follow. Later in our trip, Rhea and I, explored Great-Jaguar-Paw clan’s palace in Tikal that, both, invading enemy armies and ruling emperors of Tikal, did not dare destroy or build over.

I climbed the pyramid in Uaxactun to share the same space as Lord Smoking Frog for a few hours. After all that is how close I can come to meeting him.

***

[P.S. The amazing modern day detective work that unraveled the lines that connect all the dots in this story, especially establishing Lord Smoking Frog as Great Jaguar Claw’s brother, has to be read in Linda Schele’s own words, for she is the detective.]

Uaxactun, Guatemala: Best Day Trip from Tikal National Park

2013-01-13T17:59:27-08:00

“We have a change in plan.” Our guide, Roxy said.

I have been welcomed by guides in other countries with a variety of opening gamuts but never with the one I hate the most. I DO NOT like changes in plan. Roxy must have read my emotions instantly; I will never be a good poker player.

“Executive orders.” She said. “The President of Guatemala is holding a 13 Bak’tun ceremony at Central Plaza in Tikal. As is always the case in this region, the park officials are behind schedule. Tikal is closed for public today.” I continued to protest vehemently.She shrugged the you-don’t-argue-with-Guatemalan-authority shrug.

“Instead let me take you to the oldest known Mayan observatory at Uaxactun.” She pronounced it as wah-shak-tun.

Roxy was piloting a Honda pickup with two-row cabin. It was just 10 o’clock but the heat was already palpable. Cool drafts of conditioned air escaped from the lowered window of the pickup. My eleven year old dived into the backseat without arguing. That cut down my options. Was I fussing unnecessarily? After all it was 20th December 2012. If the media has their way, there would be no tomorrow. Should I be fixated on a plan? I slid into the passenger seat. We shook hands. She pushed a button and the windows rolled up. Roxy engaged the gear. The tires spun on the gravel, then gained traction. Soon the Honda was cutting through the forest headed North.

Sunlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy. I lowered the windows to catch the tropical breeze on my face. Not only could I smell the moisture, I could feel it against my skin. Dense vegetation in every shade of green flew past us. The road snaked through the jungle. Roxy spoke in a clear voice as she expertly maneuvered the truck probably 30 kilometers per hour faster than I would. Roxy had hit it off instantly with Rhea. She introduced Rhea to the modern day categorization of the Mayan civilization into pre-classic, classic and columbine eras. She talked about the ancient Maya and their ways of life, their faith, their idiosyncrasies. She spoke about the Maya with a certain pain and compassion that comes from knowing them very closely. Or being one, for Roxy is one quarter Maya from her father’s side.

* * *

I was in a parallel world. I was following the road. The road was familiar; not the familiarity that comes from having traversed it many times, but one that comes from a deeper sense of connection. For we were travelling on the very path Sylvanus Morley had taken a century ago. Morley is the first known Caucasian to have ever set foot in the ancient city of Uaxactun. It took Morley five hours to reach Uaxactun from Tikal on foot. It was not difficult to imagine his journey. What can change in a hundred years that has not in thousand? The jungle would be as lush. Sunlight would struggle to pierce the thick canopy. The moisture laden air would stick to the body. The howler monkeys would rustle in the branches -often heard, seldom seen. The macaws would glide on wings painted with resplendent colors.

I tipped my hat at Morley. The scholars of yesteryears also had to be gutsy explorers. Not only did they need to to patiently ply textbooks under a candle in a dark library but they had to possess the guts to wield a gleaming machete in jungles of an unknown country in search of civilization long lost. They had to undertake dangerous journeys to reach a site, clean it up, measure it before documenting it. Only after that did the academic work start.

If we adore the romantic yet impossible amalgamation of those two diametrically opposite skills in Indiana Jones, then one only has to take one quick look at Morley’s photos to know how far Spielberg went with his inspiration.

* * *

We zipped through the modern village of Uaxactun, a tiny collection of single story mud buildings that lies less than a kilometer away from the ruins. A short walk through the trilling forest brought us to a truncated pyramid with stairways on all four sides. Half a dozen local children, their bare feet dangling from the lowest step. They sat there quietly observing us as much as we observed there.

We circled the pyramid and stopped at the stela at the bottom. “This is the oldest known Mayan astronomical observation platform.” Roxy announced.

We gingerly climbed the inset stairway flanked with the Witz monster masks. The ancient steps were narrow and covered with wet moss. Did the Mayan have tiny feet? I wondered. Even as I cautiously wound my way up to the top of the pyramid, a boy raced passed me, his heels peeping over the rim of the flip flops he wore. Having made to the top after skinning my shin just once, standing 30-40 feet off the ground, the buildings around us came into perspective.

“This is why the Maya of the pre-classic times build pyramids. Not to show their wealth and power, nor for ceremonial rituals, but to peep above the jungles so they could see the sky.” Roxy prompted. Sitting on top of the observational deck, the sun beating down on us, she gently unraveled the story. The Maya had lived on the Caribbean coast thousands of years ago. There they had studied the sky for generations and understood the cycles of the nature. One terrifying night, a gigantic tsunami almost wiped them out and they had to scramble inland to the jungles. The thick canopy of the tropical jungles restricted the view of the sky and hence, they started building the pyramids.

Astronomers, architects and famers were the three pillars of the Mayan society. The farmers sowed their maze, going by the astronomer’s predictions who stood on top of the pyramid built by the architects funded by the farmers. The ancient circle of barter fascinated Rhea.

The three temples in front of us marked the precise point the sun rose on the winter and spring solstice, and equinox. The process of plotting those three points accurately probably took twelve to fourteen years.

The little boy in flip flops followed silently followed me as I circumambulated the pyramid to observe the colossal masks on each of the sides. He was still following us when Roxy leas us to another pyramid complex, except this time, he had my tripod tucked in his armpits. I had forgotten to pick it up when I started walking and he chose help.

Roxy chuckled. “His name is Miguel.” Apparently, seven year old Miguel’s father worked with Roxy on her excavation dig. Miguel was the “Keeper of the tripod” for as a long as we were in Uaxactun. He enthusiastically climbed every ancient climbed we climbed, never one letting the tripod bump onto a stone. On a terrace of a Mayan pyramid, I saw him point the tripod at the sky, his mouth imitating the sound of a rapid firing assault rifle. Boys will always be boys.

On the way to our car to drive to a different part of the ruins, we encountered groups of children of Uaxactun. They had waited patiently for me to to complete my sightseeing – either a wonderful local etiquette or a rule laid down by Roxy or both, and now it was time to pay them attention. Neatly dressed, they proffered handmade color full dolls made of dried Tuza leaves. The littlest of the lot had expressive eyes set above two plump cheeks. I looked at my little girl. No words were needed to read the expression in those eyes either. For 20 Quetzals, just over $2, two pretty girls were instantly happy.

Roxy drove us to a second structure complex not too far away. We walked through the jungle between a myriad of mounds. Apparently each of the mound is an unexcavated historical ruin. Less than five percent of Uaxactun has been excavated. I felt like a hungry kid walking though a candy shop. What wonderful things lie buried here?

We cleared the jungle and came to a massive Mayan pyramid. We rested a while on the steps munching power bars and gulping down ice cold water while Roxy told Rhea the most amazing story of Lord Smoking Frog and the first star wars of Mayan times.

We dropped Miguel on the outskirts of Uaxactun. He sprinted home clutching a small denomination note, his flip flops kicking off dirt. I watched him go. What a lovely kid.

Roxy looked at me, “Uaxactun only has a primary school. If he wants to continue his education, he has to take a bus to a town two hours away. That is if the bus comes at all.” I silently wished Miguel the best of luck and bade Uaxactun goodbye.

The Modern Town of Copan Ruinas

2013-01-06T14:37:19-08:00

The Church and Central Plaza of Copan Ruinas

So focused was I on the ancient Mayan ruins at Copan, that I was not expecting anything from the modern town. Merely eight blocks square, a buzzing plaza with a church, an airstrip and a soccer field, Copan is quaint, the ruins less than 15 minutes delightful walk away. Narrow streets hug the contours of the hill the town is built on, lined on both sides by colonial houses with alluringly decorated courtyards. Hole-in-the-wall eateries are sprinkled through out the town and immaculate art galleries showcase local artisans, and not output of Chinese manufacturing machines. The town is untouched by modern tourism.

Rhea and I instantly fell in love with Copan.

A Honduran Girl

We happened to be in Copan at a special time. It was Christmas and the town was in a festive mood. The streets were blocked for automobiles and temporary markets were setup. The families had taken to the streets in full force. Four-five generations of Hondurans were having a merry time. The octa- and nonagenarians rocked the youngest generations in their arms, as they rocked themselves in stylish chairs in verandah’s outside the houses and shops. The youngsters were euphoric having discovered unmonitored access to firecrackers, that they gleefully setoff late into the wee hours of the Christmas eve, frequently causing the car alarms to go off. The male teen in trendy clothes with flashy embellishments, smartphones being the most, monopolizing their attention, unless a pretty face fluttered by. And pretty faces there were in abundance – lustrous black hair, fiery eyes, long eyelashes and tanned, fit bodies draped in the trendiest attire was a sight for sore eyes. Their dads, in white sombreros and jeans watched wearily from shaded patios.

The Dons of Copan Ruinas

The tiny town is in love with big vehicles. 3-row seat SUVS with massive tires and 2-row pickup trucks bounced on the heavily cobbled streets, barely able to reach speeds north of twenties. Why do they need such big cars? Large families? Lugging loads of trade? I popped that questions

“No.” said the ice-cream vendor, wiping his brow under the enormous brim of his hat, “American influence. They dump last year’s unsold inventory on us cheap.”

Such a travesty. This is probably the least of the sins Hondurans have suffered at the hands of Uncle Sam. For decades, corporate America has wringed the profits out of fruit and coffee industry of Honduras without repaying. Shamelessly they converted Honduras into the original “banana republic.”

The next time I buy myself a tall 1-raw sugar cappuccino, I hope a few cents go towards infrastructure, employment and education.

Our Copan experience was greatly enhanced by the Yat B’alam hospitality. The lobby of the charming four-room hotel, looks like a street, lined by a tiny cafeteria with a delectable menu, an attractive gallery and a water fountain that sings all day long. Rina, the owner of Yat B’alam was personally present to enthusiastically welcome us. Her gorgeous smile lights up the place and her attention to detail is evident in every single item on display and use.

Lobby of Boutique Hotel Yat B’alam (Photo courtesy Rhea)

“Take your daughter here.” Rina plastered a pamphlet of a local bird sanctuary in my hand. Later when we visited the Macaw Mountain, we were at first disappointed to find the birds caged. It is only later we realized that the sanctuary had rescued ill-treated pet Macaws and were rehabilitating them to eventually set them free.

Just the kind of spirit I would expect in this lovely little tropical town called Copan.

	Our beautifully decorated room at Yat B’alam
	A Honduran tuk-tuk
	An ecstatic Rhea at the Macaw Mountain Bird Sanctuary
	Public transport, Copan style
	A fastidiously dressed hombre.
	A Copan resident.

Sunrise and Sunsets Spots for Photographers @ Tikal, Guatemala

2013-01-04T07:22:07-08:00

The much touted sunrise spot is probably better at sunset for photographers. View from the top of Temple IV @ Tikal.

Sitting on top of Temple IV in Tikal National Park, I was cursing myself. I probably should have the “Mr. Green Jeans” chapter in Bryan Peterson’s Understanding Exposure one more time. That particular chapter deals at length with handling compositions that are monopolized by the green color. I could have used that advice. Did he say expose the greens at 2/3rd? or was it –2/3? For the love of photography, I could not remember.

Perched on top of the tallest pre-columbine structure in the Americas, I was surrounded by a blanket of green, as far as I could see. It was a typical crisp tropical morning. The jungle was waking up beneath me. Two teams of howler monkeys were competing vociferously , their cries, like wind gushing through a tunnel, were reverberating through the thick canopy. The mist was rolling in fast in the background. The sun had just popped out at the horizon somewhere down there and I was hoping the mist did not engulf the Mayan temple roof-combs before the sun peeped from behind Temple III.

The sun won by a few seconds.

No sun, no problem, Mist to the rescue. View from the top of Temple IV @Tikal

I had climbed the 250 odd wooden steps of Temple IV previous day too. All four sides of the ancient temple are covered with vegetation, hence the modern wooden steps, which, having climbed many Mayan pyramid-temples, are a boon for photographers. The morning after 13 Bak’tun was muggy, the much hyped Mayan end of the world prophecy already an old story. The sky had been clear when we set out from our cottage on the edge of Tikal National Park. But within minutes of the sunrise, clouds appeared out of nowhere like a well planned coup and completely shrouded the sky.

Sensing no possibilities of a sunrise, on that day, I was prayed for the mist, to add texture to my photos.

This designated sunset point in Tikal is a photographer’s sunrise spot. Top of Temple 22 @ North Acropolis. Tikal

Unless you are being led by a photographer, you can expect a local guides to take you to the right spots on the wrong end of the day. For them, a sunrise point is a place to spot the sun rising. The photo above was made from the pinnacle of Temple 22 of the North Acropolis in Tikal. The temple on the extreme left in the frame is the Temple of the Masks. Back over the treetop, on the right, you see Temple IV, from where I had shoot at sunrise.

You can see why this cannot be a photographer’s sunset spot, even on a day that would produce a blow-out fuchsia sunset sky.

Temple of the Masks glowing in the morning sunrise. This is a favorite sunset point in Tikal.

Which is why I came back spot the next day at sunrise and was suitably rewarded.

Like most photographers, I prefer the early morning or late evening light rays on a interesting subject, with the exception of an iconic silhouette to frame against the sun (For e.g. the Yei Be Chies in Monument Valley or a roaring Khmer lion at Srah Srang in Cambodia.) I am always on the lookout for a west facing subject for a sunrise shot and vice versa.

* * * * *

I also intended to go back to the top of Temple IV at sunset, but a heavily overcast sky meddled with that plan. Next time, I guess.

Another lesson learned, too late, literally as I write this blog. If I had taken the effort to go back to the top of temple 22 from where I shot sunset a day earlier, I would have caught Temple IV gleaming golden in the sunrise above the canopy of the forest. . One lives and learns. Another one for next time.

Copan Ruinas, Honduras: Following Catherwoods Footsteps

2013-01-01T17:35:10-08:00

I owe my travel to the Mayan ruins of Copan to Catherwood.

While the Guatemala-Honduras trip was being finalized, I came across The Lost Cities of Mayas in a local Half Price Books. The cover intrigued me so much that I bought it without any further thought, ignoring the oft quoted idiom that warns me to be careful in such circumstances. The subtext beneath the title “The life, art and discoveries of Frederick Catherwood” meant nothing to me at the time. I had no idea who Frederick Catherwood was. (A very fine decision it turned out to be indeed. The book sells at Amazon at 15-20x the price I bought it for.)

Later that night, I thought I would quickly browse the book in bed. Minutes turned into hours of intense reading and researching until the sun reddened the Redmond sky.

In the early part of the nineteenth century CE, Catherwood travelled to exotic places like Greece, Turkey, Egypt, Jerusalem, Jordan, Mexico, Guatemala, Honduras. Some of these places even today are not easily accessible and travel friendly. He used his professional training in architecture in conjunction with his skills as a painter to capture the ethos and essence of a place with unerring accuracy. His work can be easily mistaken for photographs, so deft is his mastery with the brush. Unfortunately, on the back of a series of unfortunate events, only a small fraction of Catherwood’s work has survived to the present day.

His surviving work is all that is available to us to get to know Catherwood. For somebody so famous, he could not have been more mysterious, easily beating Greta Garbo to the gold in the Olympics for the reclusive. Born in an affluent English household, Catherwood rubbed shoulders with the elites in the Paris art circle – painters, sculptors, writers. He spent twelve years travelling with the American lawyer-politician John Lloyd Stephens, who wrote two volumes that went on to become best sellers in America in their times. Yet not a scrap of detail about Catherwood is known to exist. No physical description. No character analysis. No personal tidbit. No funny anecdotes. Even in death he managed to remain incognito. When the ill-fated ocean liner Catherwood boarded in London sunk off the coast of America, his name was not to be found in the passenger manifesto. Of course, his body was never found. Had it not been for his work, Catherwood might as well not have existed.

During my time amidst the ruins of Copan, I tried to stand where I thought Catherwood had and capture in my camera what I knew he had seen. Unfortunately, I did not have his drawings with me for reference; Blame it on our zest to travel light, poor internet connectivity in Honduras and plain simple bad planning on my part.

Fortunately, my memory served me well.

So here goes …

Catherwood’s penchant for capturing architectural details with surgical precision did not prevent him from using his imagination. For e.g., In this lithograph, Catherwood uses light and shadow powerfully; Introducing a bright light pointing down on the altar, washing out the lichen that covers the sculpture and a secondary light pointing upwards that gives the stela a grotesque, dramatic look.

In front of Stela A, Catherwood chooses a fantastic angle that shows Lord Eighteen Rabbit’s profile while capturing the minute details of glyphs on the side of the sculpture. I had to stand at 30 degrees to avoid letting into the frame a makeshift shed in the background, built to protect structures from the tropical elements. I realized later while processing my image for this article, that my point of view is lower than his. (He is at level with the elbow in the sculpture while I am a few degrees below, looking up to it.)

The sublime peace in his drawings make it is easy to forget the demanding conditions Catherwood made them in. Besides the tedium of hacking the foliage with a machete to free the structures, Catherwood was fighting unfamiliar climatic conditions, exhaustion, insect attacks, malaria, diarrhea and immense time pressure to complete his excavations in order to move to the next site. Under those circumstances, and irrespective, the quality of his work boggles the mind.

This one is my favorite. This is the back side of Stela F where some Mayan engravings can be found in Egyptian cartouche/ wreathe like shapes. A closer inspection shows that Catherwood’s drawing captures two glyphs (in the second cartouche from the top) that are missing today. David Stuart, a leading Mayanist, recently used Catherwood’s drawing to read those glyphs. At the time Catherwood was copying the engravings, not only did he have any idea of the Mayan style of writing, it was not even know if it was writing at all. What a fantastic testament to Catherwood’s accuracy is that!

Published in 1841, Incidents of Travel in Central America, Chiapas and Yucatan, the book that surfaced Catherwood’s work to the American public has many more breathtaking drawings made at Yaxillan, Chichen Itza, Uxmal and Palenque in Mexico.

Needless to say, those destinations have been pinned on my travel map. This blog will be followed up in the next few years.

Technorati Tags: Frederick Catherwood,John Lloyd Stephens,Incidents of travel in Central America,Yucatan and Chiapas,Lost Cities of the Maya,Copan,Camera Lucida,Honduras,Maya CilvilizationCilvilization,Photography,Yaxilla,Cichen Itza,Uxmal,Palenque,Lord Eighteen Rabbit

To Witness the Mayan End of the World in Mayaland

2012-11-11T09:39:05-08:00

SEA-LAX-GUA -> Half a day in Guatemala City -> Flight to Flores -> Four days in Tikal National Park with an archeologist (Tikal, Yaxatun), Birding trip for L'il girl -> Flight to GUA -> Bus across to Honduras -> Two days in Copan Ruinas -> Drive to La Cieba -> Boat to Roatan -> Four days in Roatan - SCUBA. swimming with the dolphins -> Flight to San Pedro Sula -> Miami -> Back to work.

Southwest: Photography + Archeological Trip: Cedar Mesa, Monument Valley, Antelope Canyon and Ute Mountain Tribal Park

2012-11-10T19:56:14-08:00

Day 0: Seattle-Denver-Cortez

The Denver-Cortez flight set the tone of the trip; A tiny plane going to a tiny town for a backcountry vacation. I was expecting the plane to be small, but did not expect a twin-prop Beech 1900 with just two rows of seats along the windows - there is no bad seat in the house. After the pretty girl finished tucking us in and showing us the only emergency exit, she went to the flight deck, donned an aviator cap and sat besides the pilot, which is when I realized she was a pilot and not a air hostess. As we flew SWW, I craned through the starboard window to see large patches of charred ground where Colorado had burned a few days earlier.

Descending on Cortez, visible through the cockpit glass, was the landing strip, oscillating wildly. It was almost as if the tiny plane was being thrown around in the air. The pilot skillfully managed a touch down, the left wheel first, a good five seconds later the other wheel.

The Cortez airport is one room deep. I rented the last car at the terminal and point it towards Bluff, Utah

Day 0: Bluff, Utah

I was put up for the first two nights at the Hadenfeldt’s bunkhouse at Far Out Expeditions. While planning the trip, I reached out to Craig Childs, whose books about the southwest exploration are high up in my list of favorites and he pointed me to Vaughn Hadenfeldt. “He knows a whopping bunch about that country, especially the archaeology.” Childs said. His word is good for me, and I was lucky to find time on Vaughn’s calendar.

Bluff is a quaint southwest town. Sun raked and dry. Little houses, a few stores, a fire station and a museum.

Unadventurous about eating that I am, I ate daily at Twin Rock Café. Hearty Chicken noodle soup with Navajo flat bread washed down with chilled Provo Girl was my standard order. The café is built exactly on the spot Bringham’s Hole in the rock gang setup their trading post. Wow!

Notice the year on the sign.

Day 1: Cedar Mesa

We hiked to Ceiling Ruin I had barely slept the night before, agog with anticipation. I had the ruin all for myself! I stuck my head into a room, careful not to touch the walls. I noticed blackening from soot. I was astonished that the Anasazi were cooking inside such a small room. The room was barely four foot tall!

Vaughn then took me to Mulley’s point and pointed our Ed Abbey’s favorite campsite. I cannot forget the most wonderful story Vaughn told me about Ed Abbey’s funeral. As much as I enjoyed walking with Vaughn, it was the breaks I looked forward too. That’s when the stories started. Names of my favorite authors flowed = Craig Childs, Robert Davis, Fred Blackburn and I listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word.

On the way back, Vaughn introduced me to the Outdoor Museum and I saw the first Anasazi pot in situ.

Day 2; Butler Wash

In the morning, Vaughn took me to the Wolfman’s panel, where an Anasazi Michelangelo has the attempted the only foreshortening that I have seen in Native American art.

Furnace Ruins aka House on Fire Ruins was the next stop. We reached there about 10am and had to wait for 90 minutes before the light was right for the shot.

We lunched at a site with the direct view of Target ruin. The ruin was explored by Richard Wetherill in 1894 and was lost until the Wetherill project found it again in 1990.

Later in the day, he drove me to Blanding to the Edge Of The Cedars museum. It could easily be the last time I visit a museum with a guide who has contributed to the discovery and excavation of over two dozen prominently displayed artifacts.

Hiking Anansazi ruins with Vaughn Hadenfeldt was definitely the highlight of this trip.

Day 3, 4: Monument Valley

Tom Phillips, the legendary Monument Valley guide had agreed to lead me in Monument. It was not to be. Tom died peacefully a couple of weeks before we were scheduled to meet. Ray, his nephew tried his best to fill in Tom’s shoes.

It was muggy and the skies were cloudy, but I spent two amazing days amidst the legendary landscape. I had put myself up at the Wetherill Inn at Kayenta, 30 miles and minutes south from Monument Valley. The drive was breathtaking and I passed Agathla’s needle daily. I caught a spectacular full moon against the backdrop of the totem pole and then went there the next day and witnessed the sun rise. I drove to Church Rock three time and I visited John Wetherill’s grave.

Glorious two days!

Day 5: Betatakin, Drive toward Page

I left Kayenta early in the morning, determined to reach the visitor center of the Navajo National Monument in time to catch the 8:15am ranger lead hike to Betatakin.

I might as well have slept in a few minutes more. The office was still closed when I reached the visitor center. Then I found out that I was the only traveller signed up for the five mile hike to the Anasazi village of Betatakin.

Pat Joshevama, the park ranger of Betatakin and I parked at the Betatakin parking lot and followed an old road towards Tsegi point. The road dropped steeply to the canyon floor 700 feet below and back-tracked towards Betatakin canyon. Soon I was standing under the humongous alcove, gazing up at the evocative ruins of Betatakin. On the way back, Pat let me return back to the visitor center on my own. For an hour and half I had the canyon to myself and it was hard to not pretend to be one of the Wetherills , passing by, in the last decade of the nineteenth century.

Day 6: Antelope Canyon

I was put up in Lake Powel Budget Inn in Page. The only thing I had looked for in the room was the air conditioner; the temperature was hovering around 110. I arrived early for the 11:00am tour to Upper Antelope Canyon with Chief Tsosie. The day was overcast and there were no sunlight beams pouring today, but the mesmerizing shapes and the warm hues of the slot canyon created by water flow over millions of years was a sight to behold.

Since I had time left after the midday trip to the Upper canyons, I drove down to the Lower Antelope Canyon less than a mile away. After buying the ticket, I was pointed in the direction of the entrance. “You missed it,” said the attendant laughing pointing to the two feet crack in the ground I had walked passed.

While the Upper Antelope Canyon was brimming with tourists tripping over each other, for a better part of an hour, I had the lower Antelope Canyon—equally picturesque and photogenic—all to myself.

Here is why serious photographers should pick the Lower Antelope Canyon over Upper. Then I sat at a precipitous drop which is easily the best sunset point in United States and the sunrise is not bad either.

Day 7: Mesa Verde National Park I drove to Mesa Verde National Park. I stood on the rim and watched tourists tumble into Cliff Palace. I heard the national park ranger crack the same jokes I had heard when I was here back in 2007. I drove around the rim to stand at approximately the exact spot Richard Wetherill stood when he discovered Cliff Palace in 1888. Then I stood at a ledge and looked down into Square House ruins and wondered when I would even get a chance to come back here.

Day 8: Ute Tribal Park and Mancos Valley

Fred Blackburn showed me the other Mesa Verde, the one tourists usually do not see.

“You see, we have two Mesa Verdes here.” Fred Blackburn said in a non condescending tone. “Mesa Verde, the National Park and Mesa Verde, the general area that Anasazi lived for over a thousand years up until the end of the thirteenth century. You have already seen the national park, how about the rest?”

His truck bounced down the Mancos Valley, canyon walls towering on either side, climbing over 7000 feet, flaunting their rugged slopes, inviting yet daunting.

We visited the She House Ruins, then side-mountained along an ancient Spanish trail to a two story brownstone with D shaped walls.

We hiked up to the Sandal House ruins and I saw Richard Wetherill’s 124 year old scrawl that made my day. On the way back, we stopped at the Alamo ranch, where all things “this” began.

I met the most interesting people on the trip, walked exotic canyons on boiling hot days, stopped at evocative ruins, experienced beautiful sunrises and sunsets and heard awesome stories. A trip to cherish.

The Sexy iPhone5 Panorama Camera Mode!

2012-10-27T11:47:32-07:00

The iPhone5 Panorama Camera mode is freaking me out. It would take me several hours of struggle with my SLR camera and I still cannot guarantee matching the quality of the photo stitching. Hats off Apple! If you want just one reason to migrate/upgrade to iPhone5, it is this feature.

This is a 180 degree pan of my backyard on a drab rainy day.

This is a 200 degree pan of my living room. The camera has adjusted magnificently for every light source and dark corner. Talk about panoramic HDRs.

This is an evenly florescent lit pan in Craig Gillesipie’s scuba shop.

This is a fantastic pan across a well lit Seattle day and warm Starbucks interiors.

The best part is that the simple to use interface can be learned in 30 seconds, as demonstrated by the two photos that my 11 year old made. Talk about usability.

I am excited about the possibilities iPhone5 panorama mode opens for my next planned trip to Guatemala and Honduras…