As a doctor of anthropology, archaeology, and linguistics, Eva has always been aware of the difference between theory and practical knowledge. As she departs for a series of research treks to the far corners of the earth, Eva soon finds herself facing several intriguing, ancient mysteries that will test her skills and teach her unforgettable lessons about the power of the universe. Eva begins the first of seven treks in Palenque, Mexico, where, with the assistance of Doctoro Ruz, she soon learns the truth of the glyphs of Pakal. Next, she travels to Olduvai, Africa, where she is guided by the Maasai Chief Kibo as she seeks the source of mankind, the Garden of Eden. From there she journeys to Hokkaido, Japan; Santorini, Greece; Rapa Nui, Easter Island, Polynesia; and finally to Columbia, South America, where a Kogi Shaman summons Eva and provides evidence of ancient aliens and a dire warning for all mankind. In her search of the origins of mankind among the conflicts of interpretation, source validity, religious debate, and discrimination, Eva is guided by ancient wisdom as she uncovers a series of perplexing mysteries that reveal the devastating effects of past mistakes.
TREKS
Volume OneBy F. Imani VegasiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 F. Imani Vegas
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4620-5176-2Chapter One
Trek #1 Pakal
In Situ: Palenque Mexico.
Day One:
I step from the decrepit helicopter after a short flight from Mexico City, into the smothering humidity. My guide is waiting, rigid, arms folded, glaring. An ominous welcome. What's macho man's problem? Do I have misgivings of this trek, never, of this guide, seems so. Here we go again, that old male vs female conflict but the secret of the Lid of Palenque awaits.
Into the jeep and a short ride to a seasonal camp with the Temple of Inscriptions, 24 metres high, towering nearby.
As we drive Jesus glares and I observe. He is short, rugged, bronze, pure muscle, graying ponytail, super clean and around 50 maybe. No Americanization here. He wears harache sandals, chinos, light white cotton tunic with red Azteca sash, just like the postcards. It's in his eyes. The distain disturbs me. The eyes are the window to the soul it is said. For an expert linguist he sure doesn't say much.
I feel his intrusion. I have always had that half metre comfort zone. He is too close and I can feel his thoughts. "Too young, probably arrogant and demanding. Nice green eyes and red hair but still a gringa. A qualified archaeologist, we shall see."
Suddenly Jesus says, "the commercialization of the ancients treasures puts an ache in my heart". I respond. "Si, I agree we do not properly respect our treasures for the knowledge they impart". He nods in affirmation. That went well.
We arrive and Jesus prepares a meal of spit roasted butter chicken, my favourite. Rice, beans and lots of poblano peppers well salted in the roast trough below. I will savour the taste of the buttery meat, the creamy rice and the bite of the peppers. Welcome back to Mexico I say to myself. Simple lemon water to drink and silence. Jesus grunts as he passes a wooden spoon and bowl. I boldly respond "gracias por la comida" "thank you for the meal" and he just glares back at me.
Okay Jesus, time to get things sorted out. A picture of Father's face, disapproving as usual, flashes before me. The old anger rises. Calm down, I tell myself, I can not let my Basque volcano bubble. I firmly state the purpose of my being here is to get answers to some questions regarding the Lid in relation to my research in anthropological cultural connections. I appeal to his expertise. I comment, "there may be a link between Mayan and Egyptian glyphs". His eyes flicker. The "ah ha" moment, and I continue matter of factly. "That's your area. I am here to review old information and apply new techniques. Is the Lid telling the truth?" There's that glare again. "Is it history, prediction or just plain storytelling"? I sigh as Jesus stands abruptly and walks away. "Buenos noches" I shout after him. Looks like this will be an intense trip as I have already offended him. Interesting, his pride is overriding the research. But wait, didn't I just do the same thing? As latinos, we both need to keep focus and our passionate emotions in check.
Day Two:
Café with chocolate steaming, perfecto. Tortilla wrapped leftovers and silence. Was that a little smile from Jesus? Progress or a smug smirk? "To the jeep, rapido, rapido!" he directs. "Relax" I reply, "I prepared my pack last night, lets go." I know the midday heat is searing so get to it early in the cool, an inside joke! I smile as I realize we look like salt and pepper shakers with our matching white shirts, chinos and haraches. His red sash and my red neckerchief, an old trek habit. He is pepper and I salt. Amusing.
In situ: no one there, off season, only mud, steamy rain and mosquitos. A flash of vivid green. A good omen, a fat iguana, adviser of the future, lounging in a nearby tree. Reptiles always calm me, maybe it's their methodical progress in life pursuits. One of my flaws is impatience.
Jesus appears surprised at my apparent pleasure. I am aware he is thinking "is this chica loco? The GCA said she was a respected doctor. What are these new methods she speaks off?"
Silently a deer, Huichol messenger of the gods, watches as we walk the site. We are absorbing every detail, our minds cataloguing and wonderment pervades the air. Already the vines creep across the terrain reclaiming its' own. Although slathered in insect repellent, the mosquitoes hover like a quivering cloud, encompassing us.
Back to the jeep and camp where Jesus brings out canvas stools and passes spears of Jicama dipped in lime and sprinkled with chipotle powder. Refreshing. Did I detect a softening in those brown black eyes? I pull out my well worn leather notebook and write furiously. Preguntas, questions.
Jesus grunts and speaks! "Ironically I am called Jesus like the Christian savior but also Pakal like the pagan king of Palenque." I freeze, que, what? A descendant of Pakal? Jesus, his face full of wisdom shared, clarifies. "I am of the family of Ruz who discovered the Lid." I break into a broad grin and declare, "I knew you were especial. I could just feel it as we walked the site. One promise of you Jesus Pakal, por favor, accompany me to the Lid at the museum?" "Si" came his reply. No more, sit and ponder. Dismissed. I flip open my notebook and write. I have mixed emotions. Jesus Pakal infuriates me but at the same time I feel drawn to him.
Jesus Pakal walks away saying "we talk at la comida. Fresh iguana tonight." I jump up and shout "no no" as he turns and laughs loudly. "Lo siento, so sorry, we have apollo, chicken, again." Comedian! Soon la cena es lista, the dinner is ready. A little chicken and a lot of tortillas. No iguana meat. All is well.
"Time for a story" begins Jesus Pakal abruptly. "Take notes if you must but listen only, no questions."
"Pakal, his full name was K'inich Janaahb Pakal 1, which translates roughly as the Great Sun Waterlily Shield, was a boy king like Egypt's Tut. At around 12 years old he began his rule over a war ravaged kingdom. A just and ambitious king, he extended and stabilized his nation during his 68 year reign. He died a natural death, August 28 AD 683, unlike Tut, who it is said, was murdered by a treasonous trio." I recall the conclusion that Tut died of infections from an injury in a fall. Another ancient mystery. Jesus Pakal continues, "Pakal was buried, as was the custom for nobility, dusted in Cinnebar in a limestone sarcophagus exquisite with a carved border of glyphs. His body was surrounded with jewels of gold, jade masks, obsidian dagger and numerous other items. His people were thankful to the gods for such a wise and powerful ruler." Jesus Pakal's face beams with pride.
I have a mind flash. Ah, once again the selective memory of man. Fact or fiction. The world over. When alive we are mere humans but dead we are saints and divine. Convenient.
Jesus Pakal rises and walks away. Is he a control freak or a provider of food for thought? Was the story an appetizer for me? "Buenos noches, good night" I shout. He turns, replies "Buenos noches" and winks. He is just too much! I am starting to like this guy.
Day Three:
Heavy mist. I am somber, sad to leave this site. Another walkabout. An iguana winks at me like a prehistoric Jesus Pakal and I smile.
I remind myself, focus, feel the history, be there watching, listening. Daydream of family life, temple life, peace or war, feast or famine. Feel the colours, blood red, deathly black obsidian, yellow warmth of the sun, blue of sky, brown of soil, and jade green...
