Pyramids
In the early 1960 I traveled with my family to Peru, by car.
During this trek we were lucky enough to have enough time to veer of the Pan-American Highway in search of sites to be seen. Our major stop in Mexico was The Big City of Mexico.
After two weeks in the capital we headed towards Guatemala with a stop in Palenque, Mexico where we saw some big Mayan Pyramids. I remember that we were the only “gringos” on site and got a lot of attention for that. As an eight year old I do not remember being impressed by the size of the structure or the fact that it was made out of heavy stones without the use of heavy machinery.
From Palenque we headed back to the Pan-American Highway and south to Guatemala. We arrived into Tikal Park late in the morning and knew that we were not going to have a lot of time to spend at this site. That was a shame too!
We were able to climb up to the top of the tallest structure and looked around.
I was impressed, even through some vegetation still partialy covered some of the pyramids you could see what I thought were hundreds of structures near each other. I was told that each pyramid was built for a king or one of their family members.
We wanted to stay longer, but my dad said we had to go after only a few hours at this site. We were still four hours away from the capital city where and we were supossed to meet some old friends of my parents. That plus driveing after dark on the narrow highways was not very safe.
My siblings and I were dissapointed since it seemed like a fun place to spend the day, so much to see, so little time.
After two months in central America and the Northern part of South America we finally arrived in Peru. My brother Laurence and I did find several pyramids in and about Lima. At first the pyramids seemed exciting as we dared to imagine what riches were burried deep beneath these stoned covered structures.
Howevere, our excitement of discovering gold and becoming famious young “gold finders” never panned out, as we gave up our quest after only one days effort, several blisters and thirst for water.
Several years would pass before I saw any other Pyramids.
When I did I was in my thirties and more immpresed then previous encounters. On a trip to Cancun with with my family we took a tour to Chichen Itza.
Really, one of the most amazing sites I had seen up to that point of my life. I was in awe of the straight lines, the level rockwork, the quantity of stone used. The wonder of where all the materials came from?
Victor and I raced to the top of the pyramid, where I was stunned by the view of the jungles that surrounded us. I kept looking out at the distance wondering how far away the pyramids were that I had visited with my parents and siblings.
However, it was not long before I noticed that something was wrong with my son. He had stopped sweating; his skin had turned red and seemed to be getting brighter by the minute. When I tried asking him if he was well he could not answer. He tried taking a step towards me and almost fell.
I touched his cheeks and felt so much heat that I thought he was going to burn up.
I looked for some shade and could not find ant on top of this stone structure.
"Water, water?" I screamed to other tourist around.
Nobody had any to spare.
“I will buy your water!”
Nobody offered.
Finally, I lifted Victor’s t-shirt over his head noticing that it was somewhat damp. I wrapped it around his neck hoping to cool the blood as it pumped through the veins running under the skins surface. “Water? Please, any one have some water?”
After a few minutes Sandra made it up to the top of the pyramid, noticing a crowd had gathered at the opposite side, she walked over thinking that it was a tour guide explaining the details of the pyramid.
And then she saw Victor sitting down on the ground with people near by shading him from the hot sun. She saw me next to him holding the t-shirt around Victor’s neck and slowly pouring water from a bottle that some other tourist finally gave to me.
Sandra approached us fright in her eyes, a bottle of water in one hand her other hand twisting the cap off. As soon as she was near her son she started to pour the water over his head, slowly not wanting to waste any of this life saving fluid, stopping periodically to make sure that the water was not being wasted as it ran down his head. She would move her hand through Victor’s hair trying to cool him off.
As Victor’s color began to change back to his vampire white skin, the crowd began to disperse. The excitement was over for some; others seemed relived that the young boy would not die.
Within a few minutes Victor was on his feet still a little confused , but talking coherently.
“I want off of this thing. Let’s go,” complained the unexcited young boy as he reminded me of my first unimpressed view of a pyramid.
During March of 2000 I took my family on a trip to China. There we saw more pyramids. From a far they looked like mounds of dirt built up to store soil for some reason or another.
As we approached the pyramids looked like mounds of dirt built up to store soil for some reason or another.
“What the heck are we doing out here,” I wondered?
Well the good news was that the tour bus had not stopped so that we could get out and look at these mounds of dirt built up to store soil for some reason or another.
It was several miles later that we disembarked from our bus and walked into a large covered building where an excavation was underway under what used to be a large mound of dirt. There we were in front of one of the most recently discovered pyramids. Just as all the other mounds of dirt that we passed, this one though was being excavated.
XIAN and the Terra-cotta soldiers were being dug up after centuries of silent protection over their emperor Qin Shi Huang, I was impressed.
And so were Victor, Assisi and my now ex-wife Sandra. We walked slowly, absorbedly, trying to see the differences in the soldiers, the weapons that they carried, the rankings that distinguished the generals from the lower classes.
This time the temperatures were perfect, I had no fear of any harm coming to my son, my family. We were on a tour that only allowed three hours to spend here amongst thousands, 10’s of thousands of life size clay figures, soldiers, horses, carriages, spears and swords all in place to keep their emperors enemies away, even after his death and through eternity.
My next big trip after China was back to the land of my youth.
For the first time I took my family to the country where I grew up I had to WOW! Them.
When they saw the pyramids the Incas built in and around Lima they were not impressed, and I understood why. They were not colossal monuments as those they had seen in Mexico nor did they contain chambers filled with soldiers and riches to protect and ensure the nobility of the deceased emperor were safe.
The Peruvian pyramids were boring to look at in comparison of what we had seen, even though one still marvels at how primitive civilizations constructed these monuments to their kings.
But, a few days latterwhen we arrived in Cuzco and saw the great walls raised either for housing or fortifications my kids awed.
How could stones bigger then semi trucks and because they were solid granite, heavier then those trucks, how could they be moved one inch? One foot? How could they have been moved from miles and miles away and then stacked on top of each other with such precision that not even a sheet of paper would slide between two stones?
Of course we went to Machu Pichu and saw the ruins of this ancient civilization. The beauty of it was not only the structures but also the panoramic view of the valley bellow and the mountains that surrounded this site.
Both my children realized that we were in a location that only a few world inhabitants would never see, but for those who would it was more then just a visual memory that would remain imprinted in our minds forever.
This city was mystical.
As the morning clouds heavy with moisture cloaked the valley one feels as if God is preparing you for something. Something extraordinary!
Even though there were hundreds of people the silence was evident. You could here whispers and the gentle winds, but only if you held your breath.
As the clouds burnt away by the warming sun, the “The Lost City of The Incas” became visible. The green lush grounds surrounded the stone structures allowing the moist gray granite stone to reflect the sunlight back into the heavens.
We wandered around Machu Pichu for hours mesmerized by the views. Thankful to be so near the havens. When we left I know that I felt blessed for having been there. For having been able to take my children to such a remote and beautiful location in the world.
Now my turn has come for what I must admit is my most anticipated trip ever. This will be the third time that I have tried to go, this time I am not turning back. I will let no excuse spoil my journey.
Desert Storm spoiled my first planed trip in 1991. I was to leave a week after the US attacked Iraq. Without asking I received a full refund for my already paid vacation.
Last year, I was supposed to go again and had transferred my miles for my tickets five months before my departure date. However, two weeks before I was to pay for my tour package, I received an invitation from my classmates announcing the 35th anniversary of our High School graduation in lima, Peru.
This was one that would go down in history since all graduates from our school would be attending. There were still survivors of the first graduating class way back in 1933.
This year I will be traveling to the Middle East where I will be joining a group for a tour called ‘The Exodus.” We will be following the trail that Moses used to lead his people out of Egypt and into the Promised Land.
I will see sites and structures that will more then likely appease my desire for future travels. But, I will go anyway.
I hope that upon my return I will be able to tell you about my trip, about the grandeur of the pyramids, the lavish designs of the chambers and funerary artifacts.
I hope I get to tell you of the beauty of the desert, the colors of the Red Sea.
I hope, I hope.