Laguna Chicabal, Center of the Mam Cosmovison

Today a group of us decided to hike up to Laguna Chicabal. Our adventure began when a camioneta dropped us off at an isolated turnoff. Initially, the road was paved, and it wound through the houses and farms of the local Mam people (who spoke no Spanish). As the houses became sparser the track quickly turned to dirt, grew steeper and began to serpentine through the forest. The idea of switchbacks didn’t occur to the road’s creators, as it curved only gently, climbing almost directly up the side of the mountain. It should also be noted that Xela is at 8,000 feet, an altitude roughly equivalent to the top of Jackson Hole, where altitude sickness begins to affect some people. Moreover, Ira Spring and the Mountaineers were not here to tell us how far or how many vertical feet we would be hiking. I can only say that we climbed for the better part of two backbreaking, sweat-pouring hours.

Unfortunately, as we stopped for a break at a vista near the top, a tour bus full of tourists pulled up alongside us for the remaining half hour descent. The descent is 590 steps, twice as steep as any other steps you’ve seen and certainly not ADA approved. The steps drop you into the volcano’s crater, which has filled with water to form a lake. Because it’s so high, clouds quickly roll in and out of the crater, shrouding the lake in an air of mystery. (As well as making it freezing cold and wet.) It’s understandable that the Mam people made the lake the spiritual center of their cosmovision. Situated around the lake are eight equally spaced altars, either flowers laid in a pattern on a stone, or tied to a cross staked in the water, or a charred ring with the remains of an animal sacrifice. It’s breathtaking, both figuratively and literally.

Sadly, Our tour bus friends were also down at the lake. They had paid a local man, who looked suspiciously Ladino in his Dickies pants and polo shirt, complemented by a supposedly ceremonial knife and hat, to bless them with the lake’s water. They stood by the shore, snapping photos, as each one had a bit of water poured on their head and a prayer. Although I’m sure they and the Ladino blessing them were getting what they needed and wanted out of the ordeal, it made me sad to see modern-day Mam culture misappropriated and misunderstood, to fit with a bunch of tourists’ ideas about ancient Mayan spirituality. It’s particularly sad since the hike to the lake and seeing in unveiled by the clouds is a spiritual experience in it of itself.