Illustration 7: The Gorge on the Trail to Burgos Camp.
The terrain was very rugged, rocky, many times with sharp edges, very different from the Victoria Peak area. If it were not for the old truck pass, even though very overgrown and difficult to find at times, we would have made even less progress. The canopy was thick, closing out the sky. Any direct sunlight that would have come through was halted by the middle and lower layers of my jungle. There was also a new problem on the trail. Ki-bix were growing into the canopy and their woody vines crisscrossed the track causing us to trip as we walked. The vines were mostly profusely covered with orange-yellow flowers, but it was sometimes difficult to see the bare parts of the vines in the dense overgrowth covering the trail. We could not look at the ground, look ahead, monitor the jungle on the sides, all at the same time.
“Keep your rifles on safety in case you fall,” I shouted, amidst the heavy cussing that was taking place. “Except for Choc, keep your machete in its scabbard.”
About two hours later, we crossed the Poctun Trail. We left the trail to go down a shallow but steep gorge where a creek flowed, to replenished our water supply and throw water on our heads. “Five minutes,” I told the men as we sat together in a very small area. It had taken us two hours to cover one mile. That wasn’t good.
“Maybe we should have brought horses from the village. We would have moved faster,” sighed Robertson. All heads turned and looked at him.
“Horses?” responded Teul, as if flabbergasted. “Horses. What the madafok would I be doing on a horse? I know not a madafok about horses and horses know not a madafok about me. Ride a horse? Never.”
“Have you never ridden a horse, Teul?” I asked, puzzled. “All boys learn to ride horses in the villages.” Choco started to laugh.
“What the madafok are you laughing at, Choco?” stormed Teul.
“He’s afraid of horses,” grinned Choco.
Teul closed his eyes. “You let me down, Choco. I told you that as my bombali.”
Choco shrugged his shoulders. “It’s just us, Teul. Just us.”
“Well,” taunted Rhys. “Teul’s afraid of something.”
“Okay, men,” I intervened. “Rest.” I noted that Teul sat quietly, almost sulking.
Choc started handing out the a’kl for us to have a smoke when I began feeling a cold heaviness in the air. I noted the men had become quiet, even Choc had frowned and hesitated in his distribution of the a’kl.
“Ke’eleen,”169 said Choc.
I was feeling cold too. I shook my body. “After all the heat we’ve been through, it’s just the cool of the creek and the gorge,” I offered in explanation. Choco cried out, suddenly, jumping up. “What the fok is wrong?” I shouted. The men were already alerted, reaching for their rifles, releasing the safeties, and examining the jungle.
“Just a madafoka cramp, Sarge. Sorry to have startled you, but it came on suddenly. Must be the sudden cool-off down here.” As the area was small, he walked up and down in short steps, trying to ease the cramp, cussing continuously.
“Madafok,” shouted Teul, also jumping up and moving his legs up and down.”
“What happen, Teul? The piss still giving you problems?”
“A little, Sarge! But it’s not that.” He grimaced. “I have a madafok cramp too.” He began trying to walk out the cramp, his face furrowed in pain. “Madafok! This hurts.”
“I’ll get some salt pills,” said Robertson.
“Mal Viento,”170 muttered Taat. He stood, looking around worriedly.
Wah-co!-Wah-co!-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
“Fokmi! Kungo owt a ya,171 ” urged Choc, firmly, looking into the trees for the kos.
“What’s that?” asked Robertson.
“It’s the kos,” I answered, immediately going back to Sisimito’s dark cavern.
“It’s more than that,” warned Taat “When a person passes through a place where a duende172 has been, he feels a cold heaviness in the air and can develop muscle cramps.”
“I said, let’s get the fokmi out a here,” repeated Choc.
I shook my body again. “Choc and Teul. Can you walk?”
“Walk? I will fokmi run,” replied Choc.
“Sarge!” confirmed Teul.
“Let’s get out,” I uttered, a bit late for the men were already climbing and stumbling out the gorge, Taat at the head of the file.
On reaching the trail again, Taat glanced at Choc and Teul saying, “If the cramps continue, let me know.” He looked at the rest of us. “If anybody else develops them, I’ll have to bathe all of us with cordonsillo. I have some, but if I need more, it’s easy to find.”
“I will still give the salt pills,” advised Robertson, setting down his bergen.
I fidgeted, wanting to get on our way, but I didn’t want to override the Medic so I stood and waited last in file to get mine. As Robertson shouldered his bergen, I started to walk. “Ko’one’ex! We’ll have another break at Nascario Perez.”
We were all very glad to move away from the gorge. Rhys and Robertson looked doubtful about Taat’s story, but said nothing to the contrary. If it were a couple years ago, I would have had my doubts too, but after Expedition Bold and my wedding day at Santa Rosa, I was very willing to believe.
The men weren’t talking and cussing much as we slowly progressed. I didn’t like that. Choc was changing the machete man every half-hour as the chopping continued to be difficult. The mountains were the highest we had crossed so far and although I had expected the undergrowth to be easier because of the closed canopy, it wasn’t. Robertson keep reminding us to drink water as we were pouring with sweat; it was, indeed, a good idea for us to have taken the salt pills. There wasn’t a dry area on any of us and our exposed areas were itching and irritated with scratches from prickly vines and rough leaves. We were feeling miserable, moving slowly. Many times, we went off the trail, but we always managed to come back to it even for a short while. Luckily, there were not enough flies to grumble about. At those
elevations, and in the dry season, we were blessed with not having many flies which would have aggravated our condition further.
Because of the uncertainty of the trail, Rhys was using the compass, keeping us on a track just east of north. We walked for what we thought was another mile, looked for Nasario Perez, but couldn’t find any traces of it. I didn’t like to miss my markers so we spent about half-hour searching in the area we thought it would be. We didn’t have any luck and it was already 1800 hours when we turned northwest towards Burgos, just over an hour from nightfall. We were sweated through and through, covered with pieces of leaves, scratched and itchy, stunk, and as we were not by a creek or river we could not bathe. It was not going to be a comfortable night, but we had enough water to drink and food to eat so we were certainly not very badly off. We would just have to put up with the fact that we stunk, something we were used to, and that we were utterly miserable.
It was just beginning to get dark when I called a halt, still not finding the trail. Taat quickly began arranging the camp and got a fire going. Everyone pitched in and we soon had a suitable area cleared of bush and forest debris. As we were finished, everyone except Taat and Rhys pulled out their ground sheet, spread it out, and threw themselves on it. I simply sat on the jungle floor.
Robertson was searching in his bergen and eventually pulled out a small bottle. He took out some more salt pills and walked around, giving each of us one. “We did a lot of sweating today and so I think we should each have another one. It can’t harm us anyway,” he advised.
“Is that all we’re getting for dinner?” asked Teul, causing the men to chuckle. He farted immediately after the comment.
“I’m fokmi hungry too,” said Choc. He too farted loudly, saying, “Ooooh! That was a good one.”
“Madafoka!” exclaimed Choco, who was lying next to Choc. “Keep that shit inside your ass, man. You want to kill us … and the whole madafoka jungle.” He
covered his nose, while Choc and Teul burst out laughing. I saw Taat looking at them intently. He frowned then nodded his head, slightly, as if he was planning something. Rhys laughed and I thought no more of it.
“Okay, you all don’t have to prove how full of noxious gas you are,” I admonished, jokingly. “And it’s time for the special rations you love. Too late to hunt and, because of the battery situation, we won’t use the headlights unless very necessary.” There were subtle mumblings and cussings.
Farting was a part of army life and it was the stink ones that provoked the most reaction. It was not bad here in the jungle as we were sleeping in the open. Inside a tent, however, it could be bad. A lot of stink. A lot of cussing. This night, however, it was providing some needed relaxation. I looked at my men. Except for Rhys, who was in his mid-twenties like me, they were all younger. Robertson, I put him in his mid-thirties. We were never certain of Taat’s date-of-birth, but he was probably seventeen or eighteen when he and Nah’ got together, so he was probably in his mid-forties. I furrowed my head as I realized that I didn’t know if Taat and Nah’ were legally married. I had never thought about it. I just knew them as Taat and Nah’. Well, it wasn’t important. I am sure they were married according to our customs. When I was fifteen, Taat and Nah’ had wanted me to marry a fourteen-year old virgin from Aguacate.173 I still didn’t know how they contacted a family from Aguacate as that Ke’kchi village was almost inaccessible. Transportation was mainly by river, and pretty much still was, unless one chose to go along a long trail through Pueblo Viejo. I refused to marry her. That in itself was very unusual. A son simply didn’t disobey his parents. I suppose that’s when they realized that I was already having a mind of my own and I was going to be ‘trouble’. My refusal had nothing to do with the girl. I just wasn’t ready to feed Tóolok from one t’ot’174 only. Also, and probably equally as important to me, I just loved my jungle and the hunt. I remember that even at that age I used to go alone or with Bas for days into the jungle and mountains. Nah’ always warned me about the Kechelaj Komon, but I never saw any of them. They tried again at seventeen, that time with a fifteen-year old virgin from San Benito Poite,175 another Ke’kchi village even more inaccessible, but by then I had taken a bad turn spending a lot of my time whoring and drinking. That was also unusual for a young man from my area, but I had a mind of my own and I was trouble; and I did eventually get into serious trouble, but I was saved by a magistrate I didn’t know, a Magistrate Longsworth. He put me in the army.
I stood up. “Men. We’re soaked. There’re still no signs that the enemy we want to engage is nearby. Take off your uniforms and rig something, near but not over the fire, to dry them off. Take off your boots and put them near the fire, as well. Wear your flip-flops and Robertson, the Medic, will check your feet. Keep your rifles and machetes with you. You’ll have to dress before you sleep and remember to sharpen your machetes. Rhys would have packed a file in each of your bergens.”
We stripped and put on the one extra shorts or boxers we carried. Robertson, Choc, and Choco chopped branches and began setting up our ‘cloths line’ while Rhys got the rations together. Teul was pissing, but not moving his legs as much as before.
There were rations in each bergen, but it was Rhys who went through them, deciding what to give out. After making his selections, Rhys was just getting ready to pass out the rations when Taat walked into the middle of our broken circle carrying a pot in his hand. “Each of you will put one cup of water in the pot,” he announced. “I am going to prepare an herb tea to help with your energy.” Rhys, can you give me some sugar?” Rhys nodded.
“Why the tea?” asked Robertson.
“I saw today that your bodies need this herb to work better. Tonight, when we arrived here, all of you were very tired, and the gas was terrible.” He shook his head. “That’s not good. Who knows? We may have to continuing walking into the night, sometime, and we’ll need to have enough energy for that. Now! Come on! One cup of water each. You need this.”
We Maya men had no problem with Taat’s request, but I could see a little hesitancy from both Robertson and Rhys. “Go ahead Robertson and Rhys,” I said. “Taat won’t kill you. When the brew is ready, I’ll have the first cup.”
“We’ll have it before we eat,” said Taat.
“I’m hungry. Can’t we have it afterwards?” asked Teul. Taat looked at him and shrugged his shoulders.” “You can. It just works better if you drink it before you eat.”
“I’ll go ahead and distribute,” uttered Rhys, and he began handing out the rations. “Tonight, we’re having two shares of military crackers, peanut butter, soya mince, chocolate and, of course, Taat’s tea. Do you mind if we eat now, Taat?”
Taat shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I suppose it’s okay. I’ll make some adjustments.”
“What the fokmi is soya mince?” asked Choc.
“It’s a soy bean product. It’s colored and seasoned to look like ground beef,” answered Rhys.
“Not real cow beef?” inquired Choco, looking somewhat amazed.
“Not real cow beef,” acknowledged Rhys, grinning. “And let me know if you are running out of hard candy. I still have some.”
“This army life,” said Choco, shaking his head. “Soy beans beef.”
We started eating, except Taat who was boiling the tea and roasting something else in a pan from his mess kit. I always looked at my men when they were eating, or preparing a camp. It was a time when I could see them for who they were, assess how they were responding to whatever mission we were on, both physically and mentally. I could see if they were able to remove themselves from the mission, relax, and simply enjoy their meal even if it were soya mince. My eyes went to Choc. He had no military training yet he was keeping up, keeping the discipline necessary to be a good soldier. I supposed that deep down we Maya were all Warriors, as I had seen at Ox Witz Ha. I wondered momentarily if the journey I was on would take me there again. I believed it would. I pushed back the recollection and glanced at Robertson. He was a superintendent of police and most likely had some military training. He was doing well, so good that I didn’t have to monitor him too much anymore. I was pleased with that as I could begin to depend on him.
I focused on Choc, once again. He was a young man from Jalacte, a Ke’kchi village about seven miles from Santa Cruz. He did not have to be with us, but had chosen to. I remember that there was a lot of trouble with Jalacte. The village was formed only one year ago, by Ke’kchi settlers coming from Guatemala. They just came in and started clearing my jungle to plant rice and build houses. The army was sent in and the settlers told to go back to Guatemala as they were squatting. Those people had no idea about the international borders in the area. They regarded the area as Maya land. They did not give up, but made a trip to Belmopan to visit our Premier, Honorable George Cadle Price, to ask for help. The settlers were granted permission to stay, establish their village, and become citizens.
“Choc,” I said. He looked up.
“Yes, Sarge?”
“So, you are from Jalacte.”
“Yes, Sarge.”
I knitted my brow. “It has only been a year since those Ke’kchi villagers came here. They don’t speak English. How the fok do you speak English?”
He put down his mess tin and then looked at me. My grandparents came from Guatemala, when Nohoch Wíinik176 was a young man, in the late forties. They settled in Rio Blanco, which is now called Blue Creek. Have you ever been there, Sarge?”
“Of course,” I answered. “So, you are the Choc the villagers from Blue Creek still talk about. Good with a shotgun.”
He smiled, puffed out his chest and muscled his arms. “That’s me, Sarge. I go back there from time to time to see them. There’s a lot of clear clean water for washing and fishing, hillsides for hunting, and rich soil for the kool. Anyway, after his arrival, Nohoch Wíinik soon married and I was the first to arrive.” He chuckled. “Seven more came after me. Early on, my
nah’ came under the influence of some missionaries and she wanted us to be educated. So, it was decided that we should move closer to PG. Nohoch Wíinik heard that a Mr. Felipe Pinto was allowing Ke’kchi families to move into the area beside where he lived, so he went to see Mr. Pinto and the next thing was that we were moving and I had to walk about three miles to the road side and catch any transport into PG to go to school. Everyday! Then I had to find my way back. After a while I was well known on that route. As my brother and sisters got bigger, I took them with me. More people came and the village of San Felipe was formed in 1960.”
“What the fok made you move all the way to Jalacte?” I asked.
“Well, it seemed that Nohoch Wíinik was never really happy around too many people in villages. He preferred the alkilo type of life. Over time, more people were moving in and there was talk of others coming to settle along the Moho River. There were also rumors of foreigners coming to buy up the land. He told us that land would soon be an issue as we had no papers for the land we were using. Also, using the same land over and over for our kool would leave the land dead and our crops wouldn’t be very good. When he heard that the Premier was allowing families to settle at Jalacte, one day he just informed us that he had decided to move there. He said that he was tired of the type of life he was living and that he’d be happy in Jalacte, have good land, and he’d be able to sell his produce readily in Santa Cruz.”
“Santa Cruz?” I interrupted.
“Santa Cruz, Guatemala. Not British Honduras,” Choc replied. “We had relatives in Santa Cruz as my grandparents came from there. My nah’ refused, saying that we children had to go to school if we wanted any future in this modern world. Nah’ insisted that we could work the kool at San Felipe and she would sell ixtama’als in PG, so we’d be okay. Nohoch Wíinik agreed and said that he would visit us as often as possible, either taking the trail to Blue Creek, or travelling down river on the Moho. As I had done all the schooling I intended doing, I decided to go with him to set up home and kool. I haven’t regretted it. I love the jungle and the land up there is rich; and the girls in Santa Cruz are good … both Santa Cruz, actually”. He looked at me and grinned.
Sisimito II--Xibalba Page 13