El Cayo
They lined us up. Our backs facing the fast moving Usumacita River. They stared us down with their AK-47s trained on us. It was execution time. This would be the perfect time for my loyal following of ninjas to strike out from the dark. I regret now not forming the ninja clan in my university days. But even now my exaggerated sense of humor wasn’t appropriate as three archeologists, five workers and I stood motionless, the sounds of the jungle and the rush of the river filling the air while we wait to be shot.
This wasn’t how I planned the expedition to go at all, trust me. I organized this expedition six months ago with the help of my colleague Matt Peters to examine and catalogue the ruins at El Cayo; located in the remote corner of southern Mexico neighboring Guatemala. We spent most of our time mapping our expedition from the University of Calgary. Gaining the appropriate government papers, we knew the risks and the troubles in this region of the world. This was no vacation. In 1994, the Zapatista revolutionaries led by Subcommander Marcos occupied this area. It was their way of attracting world attention to the prevalent poverty and we would be taking advantage of this. We were aware that these jungles were rampant with smugglers, drug runners and remnants of the Zapatista and the countless criminals freed from prison by them. We calculated that at worse we would be kidnapped, robbed, and then forced to go home empty handed. A small price to pay for examining these treasures I argued selflessly to the committee. Besides, I had spent time here before befriending the Mayans and twenty years earlier deciphering the ancient Mayan language, gaining deep knowledge to the meaning of the ruins. This was a milestone, attracting much needed international attention. The ruins brought tourism and pesos to the surrounding villages, I could use these facts. But really I had come back for a 2000-year-old relic discovered on my last visit. I was unable to bring it back safely. Now i was given permission to recover an altar carved from solid limestone. It weighed three tons, perfectly round and in excellent condition. A similar find sold for half a million. But I was going to study the ruins, not peddle its riches to the highest bidder. I confess this wasn’t the only reason I decided to come back. I had also discovered something priceless... Its jewels. A football sized ruby cradled between two stelas buried inside the pyramid. I only saw it through the cracks of this six-ton sarcophagus but before I could retrieve it we were forced to flee in haste. Its vision has possessed me ever since I first laid eyes on it six years earlier. I had planned many trips back but it had been too dangerous. The revolution had left hundreds dead and many more missing and it hadn’t been wise to risk my life retrieving it. With looting yielding tremendous financial gain, El Cayo was attracting ruthless treasure hunters. It had been rumored that even Lara Croft was planing her own raid.
We reached El Cayo on August 8th, rested and scaled the altar early the next morning only to find it had been partially uncovered and scarred with looter’s pickaxes. We were just in time and we started work immediately. Costa Anaya, a Mexican graduate, who had worked with Matt and I for years began mapping the East Side of El Cayo. Anesto Corzon was a coordinator and archeologist for the Mexican department of Culture and supervised the removal of the debris on top of the altar. Brom Cosat, a local Mayan, made sure nothing was being damaged in the process. He was also in charge of the retrieval of this relic. We had organized the transportation of the altar by military helicopter that would take it to a museum where it could be properly protected. I dragged Matt to a secluded part of El Cayo were I led him down a path almost impenetrable by overgrowth.
to be continued...
Wednesday, October 20, 1999
El Cayo
