Beyond the Hotel Door

Portal to Another World

A school of fish hurriedly swim under my floating body. Feeling the sun’s rays once again penetrating through the icy water of the Gran Cenote, they seem to recover from crossing the dangerous, dark zone of my shadow and leisurely dawdle through the tall, thin stems of water lilies.

They stop short of the underpass as if sensing the small swallow hanging dauntingly above them, camouflaged by his black and turquoise feathers which mimic the water’s reflections upon the shiny, moistened limestone. On the other side of the underpass the cenote shallows and chit palms, ferns and elephant ears encroach down into the sinkhole.

I plunge my face deep into the arctic embrace of the cenote and kiss her with my warm breath. She tastes pure and fresh. On this side of the underpass a roof of luscious, greenery protects her. Thousands of years ago, she was carved from the dried up sea floor by lime and rainwater until one day parts of her roof collapsed and she formed the garden cenote she is today.

A bright red rope trails off into the darkest cave. As the ceiling becomes forever lower, light begins to evaporate and the rope becomes my guide, my saviour in the cunning 30 metre stillness beneath my vulnerable legs. Then it too disappears into the eerie blackness. Unbeknown to the surface dwellers are the real treasures that lurk within the endless channels of the Yucatan Peninsula. Only the divers dare to enter into the mysterious world of underwater caves where stalactites and stalagmites blossom.

It is believed that the ‘Mayan Cult of the Cenote’ sacrificed young virgins into the bottomless portal to the underworld so as to appease the gods. In truth, more male human remains have been found within the main sacrificial cenote at Chichén Itzá. Yet as I approach the darkness, I suddenly sense the snakes of Chac, the god of rain and protector of the cenote, protrude from his mouth and brush up against my calves. I can go no further without having to dive and meet him face to face. My quest for lost gold and jade would have to take place another day.

I wade back and sit upon the platoon, dangling my feet in the water, the sun caressing my knees. My reflection is absent in the crystal clear mass before me; instead I see the entire ecosystem of the cenote. I watch as a turtle timidly moves through the sand. Two Mexican boys are also watching. They lazily lean against the counter, behind them stacks of snorkels for rent line the wall.

A group of tourists nosily file down the wooden stairs, splash about in the water and then disappear over to the other side. Silence returns. Even the mosquitos are unheard as they happily suck from my skin. Inside this realm, the peacefulness of nature governs its inhabitants; outside, modern Mexico continues on with its daily grind.