It was a 'heady' time in my life. I knew I had some insights that would be helpful from history and I knew something big had happened and was in process spiritually.Here I was 'head over heels' with a young woman who was teaching me about empathy and demonstrating her willingness and ability to grow, as much as I could have hoped for. I was 'in tune' and waiting for
next 'event'. Barbi and I headed for Cancun, where I could take a side trip and see my first Pyramid, at Chichen Itza. I expected something big to happen! And I could remember
re-incarnated Mayor of Old Sacramento who I had met some twenty years earlier. He said he had discovered many Mayan sites in his previous life.
The trip was prepaid, including hotel, but when we arrived at
Mayaland Hotel they had no record of our reservation. Barbi was upset which can easily happen if you expect efficiency in México. I on
other hand, began to feel my body hair 'stand and quiver'. Fate was smiling on me but Barbi wasn't. My explanations about what was 'intended' just added to her frustration. She commanded that I should, "Get
owner! And straighten this out.”
It was no problem except that they had no rooms at The Mayaland that evening. The owner was quite pleasant and said she'd arrange a place for us at
'Club Med' property up
road. Barbi wanted to be sure we could come back for
entertainment at
Mayaland and asked if I had ascertained how this had happened? I replied that it wasn't anyone's fault and that she would soon see we were
better off for it. I didn't need any intuition to feel her mounting disgust with my arrogant certainty that it was about to happen. There had been other events of synchronicity and weirdness in our time together for
previous thirteen months and I had told her that her energy had been very important all of these things that had happened. I was 'in
flow' and she couldn't relate to my elation. The 'Villas Archaeologique' was
place that
people who had excavated
site a hundred years or so ago, had stayed in.
Upon walking into
courtyard, I was even more certain something 'special' was going on! The place was like a museum in a jungle gazebo and even smelled
way it should. I was looking at all
artifacts and carved rocks in their displays or among
plants. The earlier statues were much more refined and Greek looking. Why had no one mentioned this in any of
literature? I was absolutely 'stoked'! The more recent Mayan statues had this gargoylish long-tongued creature that Barbi had told me during
week in Cancun that reminded her of me. I was so sure anyone could easily see
degradation of a society over many millennia. Barbi said it could have been her Greek ancestors who had come to Central America. The dates on
statues would make that fit my 'traveler' theory as well.
I was certain that anyone could see
work of Churchward and MacDari might be vindicated by this art alone. Churchward claimed Mu had a higher culture and technology and Barbi had to agree
older artistry was in every way superior. "I wish MacDari and Churchward had met here to compare their notes." I enthused. "Just as
Kelts (Toltecs) and Lemurians did."
"Well if they met here they probably met in
Indus and became
Phoenicians as you say, too. But we need to get to
temple or pyramid, Bob!"
I was trying to 'feel'
presence of 'The Red-Headed League' (of Megalith Builders) that my early-life literary friend Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Sherlock Holmes had turned me on to. The scientific branch of their unified organization or original League of Nations called
Tuatha de Danaan seemed more likely
makers of these fine works of art. I forget how long it was before Barbi took me by
hand and brought me back to
reason we were there in
first place. She was into that almost as much as I was grooving on
Etruscan/Phoenician or Mu/Kelt connection to this part of
world. It had taken me by surprise but still I felt there was more, and off to
room we went. It was cooler in
small room, and as we freshened up I pestered Barbi for a celebration.
"Bob, we don't have time for all of that."
"Just a 'quickie!" I pleaded.
"You don't know
meaning of
word." She joked as she ran away from me and out
door.
As we rounded
first corner of
courtyard I saw
manager in front of us, talking to a group of 'turistas'. I waited anxiously as Barbi tried to push or pull me towards
exit. At what appeared to be an 'opening' in their conversation I brazenly asked, "Can you direct me to what is really important here? I'm not interested in
'official' Mexican government position that
tour provides!?"
He responded in his best English combined with a calming French type accent. "I don't know what you mean, Sir?!"
"I mean I know
Mexicans and their Franciscan forbears aren't interested in having
Mayan people of Chiapas and elsewhere getting to know
degree of pride they should have in their heritage."
He looked at me and shrugged his shoulders as he looked at Barbi tugging on my arm. I was sure he knew more than he was allowed or willing to tell me. I was convinced I wasn't going to get any encouragement from him, so I followed Barbi who was into her 'mall walk' that I always joked about. Her small legs were quite powerful and when she wanted she sure knew how to use them, like when shopping.
"You know, I might learn more if we took
tour." Barbi said in a half-hearted manner with full knowledge that I was not going to listen to their lies which included
Mayans not having existed before
time of Christ. Barbi remarked with conviction. "You know everyone isn't into
same things you are."
Many people would agree with her criticism of my often intense social behaviour. "I make no apologies for being willing to question authority and act in a right and growth oriented or 'open' manner. You are getting pretty good at it yourself lately, you know!" I said as I squeezed her hand.
At that time Barbi and I were living apart, but we had lived together for about six months during
time we had known each other. Her sexual abuse issues had been faced but
character and programming of behaviour that had been her life for so many years were still being evaluated. She had just turned twenty five and I was forty three years old.
I had read about
buildings on
site more than once and I was most interested in seeing
'Pelota' where they had played a game with a big ball. The winner of this game got to choose who would die! Thus I figured, it was likely that sometimes
winners chose death. You wouldn't imagine that a team with ten players would make this kind of decision without some major motivation. I told Barbi that
Persian roots of
game Parcheesi were not necessarily
real origin, by saying. "The early MesoAmerican Indians played a game just like Parcheesi that some historian/anthropologists said was Persian."
"Is that
game like hook and ladders?" She replied as she saw some Greek looking columns up ahead.