Sun-Chaser: Marvin J. Vann, an American Life

Getting to know the Lacandons

Marvin's wanderlust virus reactivated the very next year. Grateful for his continuing support and for his interest in their programs, in 1953 the Wycliffe Bible Translators invited both Marvin and Timothy to visit them at their training camp in southern Mexico at Yaxoquintela on the Santa Cruz River in the state of Chiapas. This invitation the daring father-son duo accepted.

One day during the visit, Bill Paul, the pilot who had flown the Vanns to Yaxoquintela, asked if they would like to accompany him and the Wycliffe physician to a remote village where the doctor was to assist at a baby's delivery. Of course the Vanns were delighted to go. Shortly after their arrival, it became apparent that the delivery would be long and difficult. Taking advantage of the extra time, Bill Paul suggested a side trip to northern Lacandon country at nearby Lake Naja.

The name "Lacandon" is a corruption of what the early Spanish called the unassimilated Mayans—"La Acantunes," "the Pagans" or "Mayan wild Indians," according to anthropologists Victor Perera and Robert D. Bruce.[1] They further suggest that the Spanish phrase seems to have its origin in the Mayan "äh akan-tun-oob": "they who set up idols." Although by the 1950s missionary work among the southern branch of the Lacandon near Page  62Yaxchilan had produced Christian converts, the northern branch on the shores of Lake Naja still clung to their ancestral religion.

A short flight brought the travelers to the lake, and Paul skillfully sideslipped into a perfect landing on a minimal airstrip that had been hacked from the surrounding jungle. Waiting to greet the visitors were the first Lacandon persons that Marvin ever encountered, a man who introduced himself as Jorge and the woman with him as his wife. The village of Naja stood on the opposite lakeshore, and Paul asked Jorge if the three North Americans could visit. Jorge, whom Marvin describes as short and powerfully built, motioned to his wife to ferry the visitors across in a cayuco, a dugout canoe. The woman obediently launched the heavy, mahogany vessel alone, and as her muscular husband idly looked on, she directed the loading of the canoe and ferried the trio across. On the far shore they docked at a platform from which a narrow boardwalk led across the marshy lakeshore to a pathway on more solid ground. As they began following the path toward the village, Tim and Marvin spotted a small Indian boy watching them from high in a tree. Then and over the course of some thirty-four subsequent visits, Marvin would discover that the Lacandon kept careful track of their guests.

In the view of Perera and Bruce, the Lacandons of Naja are the lineal descendants of the Maya of Palenque. Their ancestors, Perera and Bruce believe, remained deep in the rain forest, where Marvin thinks they had always been, to evade the European conquerors of Mexico. Owing to their isolation and the difficulties involved in reaching them, they avoided both cultural assimilation and, largely, Christianization, until the early Page  63decades of the twentieth century. The language the northern Lacandons of Naja speak is the form of Mayan spoken on the Yucatan Peninsula and preserved in inscriptions at Palenque and fragments of ancient Mayan codices. The Lacandon also preserve precisely the same numeric system found at Palenque, which they consider to be the center of the earth. Based on evidence he and his companions subsequently discovered on their own explorations in the vicinity, however, Marvin thinks it equally or more likely that the northern Lacandon's ancestors had their ceremonial center at Coba rather than Palenque. Particularly because the ceremonial roads or sacbe radiate from Coba rather than from Palenque, Marvin thinks Coba the better candidate. In any case, Marvin was among the first to hold the view that Mayan-Olmec civilization was spread throughout the rain forests of the Yucatan and not limited to the areas immediately surrounding great ceremonial centers.

As Marvin and Tim entered the village of Naja, they were greeted by a vigorous old man with long, coal black hair, a mustache, a broad, pleasant smile, three wives of various ages, and very young children. This individual, then in his eighties, was Chan K'in ti Naja. Chan K'in's name, Bruce and Perera report, means "the little prophet (or "sun" or "prophecy") of Naja." Although he was clearly the village leader, he denied playing the special Page  64role among his people that the Mayan phrase t'o'ohil conveys. That is, he denied being the high priest or religious leader of the Lacandon. When any other Lacandon was asked, however, to identify their principal t'o'ohil, (apparently each village had one) they always named Chan K'in of Naja. The same anthropologists find further support for this assertion in the ceremonial functions that Chan K'in fulfilled when, in the Mayan month of Pop, he renewed the god pots that had lost their efficacy. They also point to his reputation for clairvoyance and to the fact that on a visit to Palenque, Chan K'in could identify each of the gods who was "owner of the house" as he passed each temple there. Based on this and other evidence that they discuss, and brushing aside the demurral of others, both lay and professional, Bruce and Perera thought that Chan K'in in the 1950s was "the last of the halach winik (great lords) of the Olmec-Maya tradition." Moreover they considered him, as such, "Lord of Yaxhilán, of Copán, of Tikal...of Chichèn Itzá and Mayapán as well."[2]

It was this worthy, then, who welcomed Marvin and Timothy and Bill Paul to Naja. Seeing that Marvin and Timothy were equipped with cameras, Chan K'in stepped into his hut and returned with a bow and arrow that he demonstrated and pointed into the air for the benefit of the photographers. Then he took them on a tour of the village. Most of the villagers were out working in their vegetable plots or milpas, but they found Chan K'in's son and heir apparent, introduced to the Vanns as "Mateo," at home.

As a baby Mateo had met with an unfortunate accident and fallen from his mother's arms into the fire. Horribly disfigured as a result, he had no upper lip or nostrils, and he was missing one ear. Mateo's pleasant disposition and perpetual smile, however, soon endeared him to the Vanns, and he led Marvin and Timothy to the village "god house" where he ignited incense—Copal—in three god pots in the visitors' honor and chanted for them what Marvin thought were prayers for their well being. In due course, Bill Paul came to collect his passengers. Mateo accompanied them from the god house to his hut, where he ducked inside to collect some arrows that he sold to the Vanns and then brought out a pet monkey with whom he posed for a photo. During many subsequent visits Marvin and Mateo were Page  65to become close friends. On this first meeting Mateo invited Marvin into his home. On the next, Mateo, whom Marvin considers one of the kindest and friendliest persons he has ever met, gave Marvin a god pot. God pots, Marvin learned, were periodically renewed as the old ones seemed to lose their efficacy. The new ones were employed in the daily prayer ceremonies, while the old ones were distributed among shrines in the jungle. Marvin entertains the possibility that Mateo's god pot was propitious for him in later, risky situations.

The living Maya of Naja, the northern branch, and of Lacanja, the southern, continued to fascinate Marvin. He became close friends with Nabor, the headman among the southern Lacandons. Nabor's eldest wife, Maria, who was the oldest person among all the Lacandons, also became Marvin's friend. She was so pleased by a gift of beads that he brought her, that thereafter she invariably wore them. Like Chan K'in and Mateo, Maria seemed to enjoy the gift of second sight. Marvin remembers feeling amazed that, when he introduced his friend Tom Fisher to the Lacandons, they already seemed to know all about his specialized interest in and knowledge about them. Marvin also came to know Obregon, whom the southern Lancandons Page  66had exiled from the village at Lacanja to a spot beyond the end of the airstrip to the south because he had once killed a man. Though Obregon was consistently friendly to Marvin, once, when the Lacandon failed to see the humor in a practical joke, Obregon seemed dangerously volatile and on the verge of uncontrolled anger. Marvin always treated him with gingerly respect thereafter. Marvin remembers several occasions when he observed the women preparing Balche, the mildly alcoholic beverage that the Lancandons use for ceremonial purposes.

As he came to know the Lacandons better and better, he also came to know their non-Indian friends. Because their traditional lands stood in mahogany forests, the Lacandons were and are subject to exploitation at the hands of persons and governments who would reap profit from their natural resources. Accordingly, Trudy Blom, a hotelier, and her husband, Franz, a renowned student of the Lancandons, did much to protect Lacandon interests, and Marvin became Trudy's friend.

A Canadian woman of Italian origin named Graziella settled for a time among the Lacandon and married one of Chan Kin's sons. While she lived among them she undertook public health projects, oversaw the building of latrines and the removal of garbage and taught the Lacandons much about sanitation and worked at improving literacy. In the end, however, she divorced her husband and left the jungles. "She broke her husband's heart," Marvin recalls.

On his initial visit even this brief contact with the Lacandons spurred Marvin's long-time but dormant interest in pre-Columbian cultures. Upon his return to California he set about reading everything he could Page  67find about the Lacandon and their Mayan forbears. He was helped in this pursuit by a co-worker from the Human Factors division of the Lockheed Missiles and Space Company, Tom Fisher. Fisher proved to be a passionate student of all matters Mayan and Lacandon and had assembled on those subjects what was then the most extensive private library on the subject west of the Mississippi. This collection he generously put at Marvin's disposal. Tom and Marvin became fast friends, and they agreed that the next summer they would together visit an important and as yet only partially excavated and restored site, Coba in the state of Quintana Roo. In 1955 there were no roads to the site. The only way to get there was on foot via forest trails.

What attracted the friends to this site in particular was that it had several known sacbe. Sacbe are ancient elevated roads that were apparently used only for ceremonial traffic. Marvin and Tom Fisher wished to trace a portion of one that ran west from Chichén Itzà to the village of Chemax and then south to Coba. When summer came, the friends agreed to meet at the city of Merida in the Yucatan and then to travel by road to Chemax. Tom would travel alone to Merida, and Marvin Page  68would ride with another Lockheed coworker, Earl Edelen and his wife, Jan, in their flying club's Beechcraft Bonanza, a fine, private aircraft. Earl was a fluent Spanish linguist, a frequent visitor to Mexico, and he and his wife Jan were very well connected with senior officials of the Mexican government.

Trouble Aloft

The trio loaded their plane at San Jose and flew to their first stop, Tucson, Arizona. The next morning, they started early with the intention of landing for the night in Monterrey, Mexico. First, however, they had to put down to clear customs in Hermosillo. There, with Marvin's usual ill fortune at customs, they were detained because the inspectors found something they didn't understand in the flight plan Earl had filed. Eventually the problem was "one way or another" resolved, and they again took off.

Marvin recalls that the day was perfect for flying with light winds and great visibility. Earl was navigating under visual flight rules, and the checkpoints kept appearing just as they were supposed to. Later in the day, however, the flyers found the mountains on the charts confusing. The checkpoints failed to tally, and after relying for a time on the compass, they had to admit to themselves that they were hopelessly lost. Moreover, as the light was beginning to fail, they had to get out of the air. Making one last stab at orienting themselves, they followed a railroad track to a town and descended to an altitude of 200 feet from which they could read the name of the town on the roof of its railroad station. The town's name, Saltillo, did not appear on their map. Perhaps the customs' inspectors had just cause for their concern about the flight plan.

In the gathering dusk, Earl decided to land on a road. He found one about 15 feet wide, made a low pass over it to be sure it was free of people and livestock, then instructed Marvin to put down the landing gear. Marvin tried to comply, discovered that the gear was already down, and advised Earl of the fact. Earl turned to look incredulously at Marvin. As he did so, he involuntarily pulled back on the stick, raising the Beechcraft's nose. The plane stalled. With little room to maneuver, Earl managed to bring the plane almost to the level just before they hit the ground. They skidded a short distance until the left wing hit a tree, spinning the plane around Page  69and bringing it to a sudden, lurching halt. Thrown forward, Earl hit the windshield and was knocked momentarily unconscious. Jan, in the back seat, seemed semi-conscious and was moaning. Marvin was fully conscious but shaken, and his innards did not quite feel normal. Earl recovered consciousness in seconds, and Marvin yelled at him to switch off the ignition. This Earl managed to do. Of the three, Jan seemed the most seriously injured, and the two men ignored their own condition to get her out as there was still danger of fire.

Jan had not secured her seat belt. The impact had thrown her forward into Marvin, and she had apparently sustained serious injuries, perhaps to her neck. The men pulled her from the cockpit and gently deposited her on the wing. Then Earl disconnected the battery to reduce the fire hazard.

By this time it was fully dark, and citizens from the nearby village of Moctezuma came running with flashlights to help. One man came in an old car and offered to take everyone to a hospital. Jan certainly needed one, and even though the men were reluctant to move her, they accepted the ride. Partly this was to get Jan some help. Partly it was to avoid having to report an injury accident to the authorities. The Mexicans take, or at least Page  70then took, the pragmatic view that the easiest way to assure the testimony of victims and witnesses to injury accidents was to jail them. (Marvin observes that this is probably the reason that Mexicans involved in accidents in Arizona and California so often flee the scene.)

After installing Jan in the hospital, which consisted of two beds in the back of the local drug store, Earl was informed that a U. S. Consular office existed in Moctezuma. Earl called and was advised to "disappear, hide, go incognito, become invisible." This, after ascertaining that Jan was in the reasonably competent hands of the local pharmacist, Marvin and Earl did. They checked into a local hotel that was more concerned with the color of their cash than with their identities.

The next morning they first went to collect Jan. She was in some pain but nothing seemed broken, and her spirits were good. They asked the pharmacist how much they owed him, and that hapless con man attempted to wring an unconscionable fee from the Gringos, saying that he could hold Jan there until it was paid. Earl smiled and asked to use the phone. Doubtless thinking Earl was arranging for a transfer of funds, the pharmacist obliged. After a brief conversation in which Earl explained what had happened, what charges the pharmacist had proposed, and on what terms, he handed the pharmacist the phone. On the other end was Jan's good friend the attorney of the President of Mexico.

The attorney explained to the pharmacist the legal consequences of his planned course of action. Ashen, the pharmacist refused to accept any payment whatever for his services of the previous night, and the three Nord Americanos departed. Now Marvin had to retrieve his Coba gear from the plane, so as everyone was ambulatory, they deposited Jan at the hotel and then made the requisite call on Moctezuma officialdom. A couple of Montezuma's finest accompanied the men to the wreck. While Earl kept the policemen near their car, regaling them with a blow-by-blow account of the accident, Marvin scrambled around the cockpit collecting his things and secreting the contraband .45 Colt automatic he had smuggled into the country. In his view as a former scoutmaster, it was best to be prepared.

So equipped, Marvin, whose injured innards were by now causing him considerable distress, hightailed it out of Moctezuma on the first bus bound Page  71for Merida in the Yucatan, a destination over 1100 miles away over bumpy, humpbacked roads.

For Earl, however, no such easy escape presented itself. If you bring a car or a truck—or an airplane—into Mexico, you either have to take it out or pay duty on it. The duty usually amounts to about the value of the vehicle or aircraft. Unfortunately, the accident had totaled the Bonanza. Its flying days were over. But if it didn't leave the country, Earl would be stuck for duty that would replace it. He therefore engaged a crew of men to saw the plane up. He then exported as junk everything but the cockpit instruments, which still had some value.

For several hundred miles Marvin's bus jounced southward toward Puebla and Oaxaca, where it finally would turn eastward across the Isthmus of Tehuantepec and then northeast to Merida. Several times during the day the bus disgorged its passengers for meals and rest stops. Despite those respites, the driver had to drive without replacement for the entire journey. Marvin had moved to the last seat on the bus, where he managed to stretch out and grab a few winks of sleep until the frequent application of the brakes made him slide forward on his precarious perch and threatened to dump him on the floor.

Night fell, and the driver carried on and on. Marvin was reminded of Odysseus when he tried to sail for nine days and nights with no rest. As dawn of the second day spread rosy fingers in the eastern sky over the Yucatan, Marvin realized that the bus, which usually followed the crest of the road, was traveling on the wrong side. Looking forward into the rear view mirror, Marvin realized that the driver's head was lolling from side to side, and that the driver was jerking awake, compensating, and then drowsing again. Marvin made his way to the front of the bus and gently placed his hand on the driver's shoulder. Sheepishly, the driver grinned up at Marvin, thanked him, particularly because none of the other passengers had seemed aware of their danger, and introduced himself as Pedro. Settling into the seat immediately behind Pedro and employing his still nascent Spanish, Marvin engaged the driver in a running conversation as the bus cruised on toward Merida. Each time the bus stopped for a meal now, the other passengers settled in to order at the lunch counter. Marvin, instead, at Pedro's invitation, joined him in the back rooms of the restaurants, where a fine Mexican Page  72table was invariably spread. Moreover, now aware of Marvin's interest in everything they passed, Pedro proved himself a fascinating tour guide—so much so that Marvin actually felt sorry when they eventually pulled in to Merida, only one day behind Marv's original schedule.

Reunion

In Merida, Marvin felt glad to be alive even though he was hurting, and he found Tom Fisher awaiting him as planned at the Hotel Colon. Reunited after Marvin's harrowing journey, the friends hastily planned their onward itinerary. They decided to spend a full day at the magnificent Mayan ruin of Chichèn Itzà. To get there they boarded another bus to the village of Piste not far from the site. In Piste, whose most interesting attribute, Marvin recalls, was that it had been largely constructed of stones quarried from the ruins and bearing Mayan inscriptions, they checked into a small hotel. Unimpressed with its security arrangements, they decided to carry their expedition gear with them to the archeological site where they left it in what proved to be the reliable care of the government employees at the entrance. After a wonderful day poking about the ruins, they returned to Piste, and on discovering that no bus went to Chemax before afternoon, they booked a cab for the following morning

The next day, on their way to breakfast in the tiny hotel dining room, they passed near the doorway an old man, "stoned," as Marvin puts it, "to the eyeballs on mescal." With his bare hands, the old fellow was poking away at a snake about 18 inches long that was sunning near the doorway. Marvin and Tom recognized the reptile as a "nauyuca"—a deadly fer-de-lance.

Shaking their heads and pointing, both Marvin and Tom shouted "Muy malo." But the snake's tormentor paid them no heed, so having done their unavailing best, they resignedly went inside and ordered their meal. Before they had finished eating, a commotion outside brought them hurrying to see what had occurred. Sure enough, the snake had bitten the man, who was already unconscious and being carried away. Marvin hopes that the Mescal boasted at least some antidotal properties. After breakfast, the two found that the snake had resumed sunning itself in its original position. The cab arrived; they loaded their gear and headed out.

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Chemax and Coba

In due course their cab deposited them at the village of Chemax, the trail head for their journey to the then rarely visited ruins at Coba. Shouldering their duffle, the two reconnoitered the small village. Built around a village square, a zocalo, the town boasted a still lovely church that had seen better days, a few shops, and benches filled with apparently unemployed men. In answer to their inquiry, one of these proved to speak very good English—much better than the pair's rudimentary Spanish. This was fortunate, for they had originally planned to have the now absent Earl do their talking.

After hearing that they needed a guide, a pack animal, and its driver to assist them on a trek to Coba, their translator, whose name was also Pedro, explained that this was difficult for several reasons. The way was long and the trail was poor. Accustomed by this time to dealing with hard bargainers, both Marvin and Tom assumed that this was the opening gambit in a negotiation. Then their companion told them that he had a friend with the necessary animals, and that he would attempt to recruit him. Pedro, who was himself an Indian, disappeared, and both Marvin and Tom despaired of seeing him again. In about thirty minutes, though, he reappeared leading two donkeys. His friend, he reported, was unavailable, so he would himself go with them, be their guide and drover, bring two others to help, and secure any necessary provisions.

Marvin and Tom explained that no provisioning would be necessary as they had with them enough dehydrated food for everyone, and all that would be required was a heat source and water. This news intrigued Pedro, who had never heard of such a thing, and his heightened interest soon became apparent to the North Americans. Once the requirements had been agreed on, they asked for a price. To their surprise, Pedro named a ridiculously low figure from which, he said, he would also pay the other Indians, whom he had recruited while fetching the animals. Of course, he confessed, he had never himself been to Coba, but as there was only one trail, he was certain he couldn't get lost.

Putting their heads together, Marvin and Tom discussed the proposition and finally, tossing to the winds all they had ever been told about bargaining, offered to accept Pedro's services at twice the figure he had proposed. Despite this generosity, neither Marv nor Tom was foolish enough to trust Page  74

their new employees implicitly. They took precautions. Though both were armed, they never let their helpers know that. Rather, they kept their weapons and extra ammunition concealed. Otherwise, they frankly showed the men everything else they had with them. Their crew, in the event, proved Page  75entirely honest and trustworthy and, once arrived, as interested in the ruins as their employers.

By noon the expedition moved out. The trail toward Coba was good, both clean and clear of growth. Marvin began the journey astride one of the donkeys, but the injury he had sustained to his lower abdomen in the plane crash stabbed at him with each step the animal took. He found walking much more comfortable and moreover discovered that afoot he was almost as fast as the animals. At one point along the path the group came upon a very large Nauyuca. One of the young Indians raised his machete to dispatch the reptile, but Marvin stopped him and asked Pedro to explain that the snake had as much right to life as the men. After that, Marvin thinks, his crew regarded him with a new respect, for they shared his view, and Marvin felt that a spiritual bond began to link the travelers.

As daylight faded, Marvin began to feel concerned about whether or not the little expedition might find a suitable campsite. Though the trail was good it was narrow, and dense jungle lined it closely and apparently Page  76unremittingly on both sides. Before nightfall, however, they came upon a clearing filled with trees that at that season bore a profusion of bright red blossoms. These trees, they discovered, were called "flamboyant," and as it grew darker their colors grew more vivid. As the party grew closer, a chorus of yips, barks, and growls announced its approach. The clearing proved to be the permanent home of a small community of Lacandon, perhaps two or three families, and the settlement bore the name "San Juan del Chen"—St. John of the Well. Probably dating from the pre-Columbian era, the settlement was made possible by a small cenote, an opening in the earth below which there reposed a large cavity filled with water. The men of the village were absent, either hunting, or trading, or tending their milpa. The women, however, offered hospitality and, quieting the dogs, lodged the visitors in an open building. It was something, Marvin says, like a storage shed where there was room for the members of the expedition to swing their hammocks. Once their beds were prepared, Marvin's group built a fire outside to heat the water with which to prepare the evening meal. This food they invited the village women to share. They did, and they claimed to like the re-hydrated food. The women proved very curious about its packaging and its price. After a good deal of comparative discussion, they concluded that one package of the dehydrated food cost the price of a week's worth of Lacandon sustenance.

The conversation then turned to the purpose of the expedition. In response to Marvin's inquiry about the distance remaining to Coba, the women assured him that no one ever went there and that it was far away. Comparing the distance still to travel with the distance back to Chemax, Marvin and Tom decided that they had covered about eight miles and still had between eight and twelve to travel to reach Coba. Asked about the distance to the sacbe, however, the women replied that, though they themselves had never seen the raised stone road, their husbands had. Not very far ahead, it ran right next to the trail the trekkers were following.

Unaccustomed to the rigors of jungle hiking, and in Marvin's case, to jungle hiking with unspecified internal injuries, after supper and palaver with the village women the weary travelers climbed into their hammocks and fell almost instantly asleep, leaving whatever uneasiness they might have felt about their security to the unflagging vigilance of the village dogs.

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In the morning, thoroughly refreshed, the little expedition moved out early in the cool of the day. For a short distance the trail continued easy as it had the day before. Then, however, it became clear that the trail's good condition in the direction of Chemax owed much to the fact that most of San Juan de Chen's business lay in that direction. Now the previously smooth, clear trail became rocky and tangled with weeds and undergrowth. The burros handled this much better than the men could, so Marvin once more tried riding. Again the jostling proved unbearable, and he was constrained to walk.

After about five miles of hard slogging and as the village women had predicted, the sacbe appeared out of the jungle before them. It rose above the jungle floor as much as ten feet in some places and as little as three in others, following the contours of the ground.

Marvin describes the ceremonial road as "straight as a string and level and about 30 feet across." Here and there he and Tom could make out places where the limestone blocks had been quarried. The blocks forming the sides of the causeway were large, each weighing several hundred pounds.

Between these sides, the sacbe's builders had filled in with uncut chunks of limestone and rubble and then faced, smoothed, and graded the top Page  78surface with a plaster-like coat, slightly higher in the middle so that water would drain off. The wayfarers now had a clearer pathway to Coba, another five miles distant in the event. Had they been so inclined they could also have followed the sacbe fifty miles in the opposite direction—all the way back to Chichèn Itzà.

Coba exceeded all of Marvin's expectations. On the edge of two small, brilliantly blue lakes stood a vast complex of ruins. The explorers pitched camp beside the lakes, which were about a mile long and a quarter mile across. Marv and Tom had originally intended to draw a site map, but because they had arrived a day behind schedule, they contented themselves with documenting the site with photographs, leaving the site map for their next expedition.

Marvin recalls that, surrounding a central plaza, toppled structures lay everywhere and one particularly large pyramid rivaled the Castillo at Chichèn Itzà or the large pyramid at Uxmal. This high pyramid had a stairway leading from the edge of the lake to its summit, and among the ruins of the smaller buildings lay a number of stelae whose glyphs were badly weathered. One of the Indians excitedly called the group's attention Page  79to a jaguar climbing on one of the ruined structures near the edge of the complex, and much wildlife of all sorts was in evidence. Readers who may have visited Coba recently will recall that now roads lead to it and that many of the most impressive buildings have been restored to make them more attractive to the tourists who visit. Then, however, few local Indians, not to mention persons of European heritage, had seen the ruins at Coba. The great pyramid now called "the castle," the corbelled Mayan arched buildings in three stepped layers, and the idyllic setting beside the lakes stand out in Marvin's memory. He also recalls that, climbing to the top of the great pyramid, he and Tom and Pedro discovered at its summit a small, single-chambered building whose interior had been painted red.

On the outer wall they found a characteristic Mayan "red hand." Apparently someone, perhaps a priest or architect, often dipped a hand into red paint and imprinted great structures or walls. Marvin has also observed the red hand near contemporary Lacandon shrines. Its precise meaning is unclear, but Marvin speculates that it may indicate the consecration of a place by Itzamna, the principal god of the Mayan pantheon, or by one of his designated helpers.

Viewing Coba from the vantage that the great pyramid provided, Marvin observed the architecture differed significantly from other Mayan sites. For example, he observed none of the Toltec influence that one finds at Chichèn Itzà, even though a sacbe connects the two complexes.

There on the pyramid's summit, Marvin tried to imagine Coba as it must have appeared when it teemed with activity and with the commerce that surely flourished there in ancient times, flowing from Chichèn Itzà in the north and from Tuluum, some thirty miles distant on the shores of the Page  80Caribbean. The party spent three days exploring Coba and then began the trek back to Chemax. There they gave what remained of their provisions to Pedro with instructions to share them with the others as he saw fit. The three residents of Chemax saw their North American friends off at the bus stop. Marvin remarks that he has always hated farewells.

Back in Merida, Marvin and Tom returned to the Hotel Colon, collected the street clothes they had left there, had a massage, which proved painful for Marvin, and kicked back with a few cool ones. Marvin, however, was becoming increasingly aware of the pain in his lower abdomen, and felt sure he needed to get back to California for medical attention. At the airport he discovered that no flights were available to San Francisco. Eventually though, he was issued a ticket and with others boarded a northbound plane. After waiting on board for a long time, all the passengers were taken off, bused to a hotel near the airport, and treated to dinner. At Marvin's table, a Mexican doctor learned of Marvin's symptoms and insisted on examining him. The doctor concluded that Marvin needed to go home immediately. On Marvin's behalf, he contacted the airline's representative at the hotel. The two of them spirited Marvin back to the airport and put him aboard a plane that left almost immediately. It was bound, via New Orleans, for San Francisco. Marvin is still grateful for the physician's kindness.

Once arrived, Marvin went as quickly as possible for a physical. The physicians told him they thought he had suffered from a lacerated spleen, but that it was in process of healing on its own. Years later he found it necessary to have surgery for a possibly related abdominal aneurysm. Undeterred, Marvin almost immediately began laying plans for the next of his forays among the Lacandon.