San Ignacio – Day 2: Into the ATM Cave
SAN IGNACIO
Day 2: Into the ATM Cave
September 28, 2022
Something I failed to mention about Roy is that he doesn’t swim. After two swimming-related deaths in his family, he’s remained apprehensive about swimming in areas where his feet don’t touch the ground – rightfully so. Which meant we’d spend our penultimate day together apart, having had already booked a tour to the Actun Tunichil Muknal cave, or, as it’s more commonly known, the ATM cave – probably a reference to the cost of the tour.
After a 45-minute drive to the nearby village of Teakettle, our group headed to the Tapir Natural Reserve – home to both the ATM cave and, lo and behold, tapirs – Belize’s national animal. Once we got there, we were introduced to our guide, Alex. He told us that in an effort to protect the cave from excessive tourism, only around twenty guides are licensed to tour the caves and, in addition, only a limited number of tourists are allowed each day. He also told us phones and cameras have been banned since a tourist dropped a camera on the remains of a thousand-year-old skeleton, fracturing its skull. Way to go, dumbwat.
Into the unknown...
After the sermon, we proceeded to hike in the jungle, crossing the Roaring River – which courses through the tropical reserve – three times. With the freezing cold water reaching up to our chests and the shuffling over slippery pebbles, adrenaline levels were high right from the very beginning.
As we went along, Alex showed us all kinds of native plant species, the coolest of which was what they refer to as the ‘give and take’ palm tree. This, he explained, has a powerful toxin in the spikes surrounding the bark, but the antidote can be found in the same tree’s sap, which can be obtained by chewing on the bark to form a poultice. Kinda made up for the fact we didn’t get to see any tapirs. Kinda.
Some forty minutes into the hike, we stumbled upon the entrance to the ATM cave. The cave system is around five kilometres long, with the river passage taking up about three kilometres. The Mayans, much like those at Rio Secreto in Cancún, believed this to be a portal to Xibalba, and only priests and their assistants would venture into the depths of the caves carrying pots filled with offerings to the gods. While the parts close to the entrance were discovered around 300 AD, the deeper systems were explored later, around 700 AD, and were also used to conduct ceremonies.
Armed with hardhats and headlamps, we started our spelunking adventure by swimming through a pool of water in the hourglass-shaped entrance. From there, we formed a line and passed through narrow passages that led to the dark depths of the cave until we reached a point called the ‘breakdown’ – a section where the roof literally caved in. Here, we had to climb and jump from one rock to another, wade through water, and squeeze through tiny spaces that would make any claustrophobe pee their pants (as evidenced by the claustrophobe in our group who indeed peed her pants).
After that, the passage led to various chambers filled with all kinds of rock formations – stalagmites, stalactites, and columns. Some looked like bacon, others like curtains or chandeliers. No matter how many times I see it, I’m always mesmerised by the torchlight causing each individual water droplet at the tip of the stalactites to shimmer, making the roof look like a starry sky. Also, the sound they make when struck is amazing. Being hollow inside, different stalactites produce different notes that reverberate along the cave walls, with the guides knowing how to strike them to create a melody. Cool, right?
The highlight of the ATM cave lay deeper inside, marked by a stone platform we had to climb. From there on, we had to take our water shoes off – mostly to minimise erosion, but also to encourage more caution and avoid trampling over any more human remains, much like what had happened a few years earlier when yet another tourist stepped on yet another skull. Way to go, dumbwat.
Barefoot, we proceeded into a huge chamber where we could see pots and other ceremonial Mayan artefacts scattered around. What was curious about the pots was their simple design – some were completely plain, while a few had a monkey carving around the lid. This, Alex told us, implied that the ceremonies were carried out only by a select few, and that there was no need for the usual intricate patterns found on most Mayan pots elsewhere to impress a crowd – not to mention that the pots would later be broken. These, we were told, were placed on hearth stones so the offerings would be burnt and the smoke would rise to the gods. The Hearth Stones of Creation, as they’re called, come in threes and represent Orion’s Belt, which the Maya believed to be the cosmic fire of creation.
Apart from pottery, the remains of a dozen victims of human sacrifice can be found – among them, a baby’s. From the chamber, a ladder leads to a higher vault where the ATM cave’s jewel can be found. Lying on the ground, perfectly preserved in a shiny crystallised shell, is a calcified skeleton that has been aptly named the “Crystal Maiden.” The name Actun Tunichil Muknal actually means “Cave of the Crystal Sepulchre,” in direct reference to this.
After allowing ourselves some time to soak it all in, we made our way back out of the cave – the sunlight welcoming us back to the outside and the riverbank guiding us back to the starting point. As great as the experience was, I was still a bit disappointed we didn’t stumble upon a tapir or two!
One last time...
Coming back, I was happy to see that Roy had kept himself busy while I had been away. Turns out, his cousin Roxy (well, his cousin’s ex-girlfriend, actually) happened to live there. Just like that, we had plans for the night – something I wasn’t too keen on, given it also happened to be our last night together.
My reluctance quickly wore off the second I started speaking to her. I remained quite baffled by how impressive she is. She’s the head of Belize’s postal service, she’s studying for a Master’s degree, and she teaches classes. That night was the first free evening she’d had in months! Whilst most mental health advocates would recommend a lighter schedule and prioritising herself more, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration and respect for her. I asked whether she felt like she was spreading herself too thin and how she copes with such a hectic life.
Her response was that she does, in fact, spread herself too thin – and that she copes by telling herself that in a few years’ time, she’ll be right where she wants to be. This empowered her and made her feel strong and resolute. And, she added, she’d be able to afford some rest once she got to that place. In the meantime, Roxy was also well supported by her family, with whom she had been staying for the time being.
It took me back to Dr Bailey on Grey’s Anatomy saying she can’t step down, that she can’t take a break. Women – especially those of colour – have to give it their 100% at all times if they are to make it. A break would signify weakness, fallibility, an inability to do what men do. One wrong step, and years of hard work and sacrifice would go down the drain. Or at least that’s how society makes it look. Later on, Dr Bailey herself stepped down – and, contrary to her beliefs, none of that happened. She came back stronger than ever, well-rested, and much more in control than she used to be. The future is female after all, huh?
Dinner and Karaoke
After a couple of drinks at a bar, we headed to her place where we’d prepare dinner. Roy took control of the kitchen, I was his sous chef and Roxy, much to our insistence, sat down to enjoy some much-deserved chill time. Being an avid slicer ‘n’ dicer, I chopped everything Roy would put in front of me and then took the backseat to see him work his magic.
I only dared to offer my expertise in cooking baked potatoes – my one and only specialty. It’s true – friends and family alike can confirm it. I’m salivating just thinking about my baked potatoes. So good! Anyways, my baked potatoes aside, we’d be having pork chops with a special sweet and sour sauce Roy made, using pineapple and god knows what else. What I do know is that we ate all of it in a matter of seconds. It was mouth-wateringly delicious!
After a couple of drinks at a bar, we headed to Roxy’s place where we’d prepare dinner. Roy took control of the kitchen, I was his sous chef, and Roxy, much to our insistence, sat down to enjoy some much-deserved chill time. Being an avid slicer ‘n’ dicer, I chopped everything Roy put in front of me and then took the backseat to watch him work his magic. I only dared offer my expertise in cooking baked potatoes – my one and only specialty. It’s true – friends and family alike can confirm it. I’m salivating just thinking about my baked potatoes. So, so good! Anyway, my baked potatoes aside, we’d be having pork chops with a special sweet-and-sour sauce Roy made using pineapple and God knows what else. What I do know is that we devoured all of it in a matter of seconds. It was mouth-wateringly delicious!
Wanting to extend our night a little longer – our last night – Roy suggested karaoke. Roxy’s girlfriend joined us for that. We played a little bit of everything, from classics like My Heart Will Go On and Wonderwall, to some of my personal guilty pleasures (anyone who really knows me knows that I’m a professional Katy Cat, with Hot N Cold being my go-to song).
It felt so good being able to belt out loud without a care in the world. If there was one thing I missed about being back home, it was certainly this. Back home, I’d sing out loud all the time – while studying, writing, showering or just chilling. I’m likely to be compared to a tone-deaf velociraptor, but I genuinely couldn’t give less of a crap. Singing makes me feel so good – so happy! And while on the road, I had to tone it down a notch. I’d hum and maybe sing softly in my hotel room – something I started doing after being told to keep it down by hotel staff on two separate occasions. But I couldn’t belt it out loud. It felt repressing to me – listening to music without being able to sing along. And finally, I could.
My rendition of Billie Eilish’s Happier Than Ever (the Kelly Clarkson cover, obviously) shall go down in some random Belizean history book – probably one written by Roxy’s neighbours.
By the time we’d had dinner and sung our throats off, it was already quite late. It would be the last night Roy and I would spend together. He’d be waking up super early the next morning to get back to Caye Caulker in time for work, leaving us with only a few hours to say goodbye.
And boy, was that a difficult goodbye. In just three weeks, I had fallen for this guy. Well, I fell for him on day one, really. But over the past few weeks, I’d become smitten. He was the kindest soul I had ever met – attractive, resourceful, funny, protective, loving, hard-working, passionate, selfless, charismatic, good. A good man. One that’s so rare to come by nowadays. And I had the honour of being with him – even if only for a short while. Thank you Roy!