Photo MexicanCaribbeanTravel |
CENOTES
PART 2
Jeanine Kitchel writes about Mexico, the Maya and the Yucatán. Her travel memoir, Where the Sky is Born: Living in the Land of the Maya, details how she bought land and built a house in a small fishing village on the Mexican Caribbean coast. Her debut novel, a narco lit thriller, Wheels Up—A Novel of Drugs, Cartels and Survival, is available on Amazon as is book 2 in the trilogy, Tulum Takedown.
Photo MexicanCaribbeanTravel |
CENOTES
PART 2
Cenote in Yucatan |
It is July, rainy season in Mexico, and temperatures are in the nineties, a veritable heat wave. We’re in search of a cenote, a clear fresh water pool, also known as a sinkhole here in the Yucatan, a place the Maya named Sian Ka'an or Where the Sky is Born.
Although the Maya used these ancient wells as their water source in an arid land that offered few rivers, our search is for recreational purposes. We plan to cool off in the cenote’s crystal waters, to swim and maybe snorkel.
Traipsing through thick forest growth alongside a mangrove swamp, little did I realize this jungle spot forty miles south of Cancun and just seven miles north of Playa del Carmen (Tres Rios) would many years later become a major resort. With a wave of the hand, our guide motions us to follow.
We ford the stream behind him and into a clearing. Now surrounded by brilliant green foliage, the scene becomes a primeval forest. The clarity of the cenote is beyond comparison. Gazing into it I see mangrove tree trunks reaching up from the pool’s bottom, breaking the waterline and stretching high into the tropical sky.
Cenotes are plentiful in this part of Mexico and have become a favorite tourist attraction as vacationers discover they’re an ideal place to cool off in the sultry climate of the Riviera Maya. Nearly five hundred are known to exist in the Northeastern Yucatan where Maya civilization flourished for 3500 years from 2000 BC to 1521 AD.
Cenote Bang by USGS.gov |
To the Maya, a culture made great by ruling dynasties and strong religious beliefs, cenotes were more than just a water source. The Maya believed cenotes were the sacred entrance to the underworld of spirits where Chaac, the rain god, lived. On a parched peninsula, Chaac ruled in a long line of spiritual dieties. Water is life.
Of the Yucatan’s numerous cenotes, perhaps best known is the Sacred Cenote at Chichen Itza, a ceremonial center known for towering pyramids and spring and fall equinox displays of shadow and light. The vertical wall cenote has a diameter of 160 feet and measures 60 feet from its lip to the water surface below. Made famous by archeological explorer Edward H. Thompson, this well brought forth its diabolic history when Thompson dredged it in 1904.
Thompson knew Maya life intertwined agriculture, religion and water. Due to agricultural needs to feed a burgeoning population, the Maya calendar was developed to determine auspicious dates for planting and harvesting. Thompson also knew the calendar was interpreted by the priests, but as their promises failed to bring rain, he’d heard human sacrifices were thrown into the cenote to appease Chaac. He was also positive that along with the maidens, other offerings would also have been made.
The Boston explorer tested his theory by creating a diving aparatus and taking diving lessons, hiring a Greek diver to assist him, traveled to Boston to buy a derrick and thirty-foot boom, designed his own diving apparatus, and shipped it all to the Yucatan.
Edward H. Thompson (photo americanegypt.com) |
On his return, he dove and dredged the Sacred Cenote daily. Finally, about six weeks in, he came up with gold and copper discs, figures of Maya gods and the clincher, human skeletons. His exploration of the cenote proved that human sacrifice was indeed a part of Maya life, with human sacrifice hopefully giving them access to the rain god and his whims.
Chicen Itza's cenote is but one of many in the Yucatan. Part 2 will explore how cenotes were formed and give details on some of the more popular ones on the Peninsula. Stay tuned.
For more information on the Maya, Mexico and the Yucatan, check out my website, www.jeaninekitchel.com. My travel memoir, Where the Sky is Born: Living in the Land of the Maya, is available on Amazon.com. Also on Amazon, are books one and two in my Mexico cartel thriller trilogy, Wheels Up—A Novel of Drugs, Cartels and Survival, and Tulum Takedown. Subscribe to my blog above for my writings on Mexico and the Maya.
"Being a journalist is like being on a black list."
Javier Valdez Cárdenas (theguardian.com) |
MEXICO JOURNALISTS
PART 2
Mexico reporter and author Javier Valdez Cárdenas said, “The government's promises of protection are next to worthless if the cartels decide they want you dead.”
And that proved to be the case on a May day in 2017 in Culiacan, Sinaloa, where the fifty-year old journalist was dragged from his car at noon and shot 12 times in front of Riodoce, the newspaper he co-founded in 2003.
As Valdez had presciently stated, “Even though you may have bullet-proofing and bodyguards, the gangs will decide what day they are going to kill you.”
Valdez, well-known for his amiable nature, wide smile and Panama hat, was one of 119 Mexican journalists assassinated since 2000 because they dared to report news about the cartels.
INTERNATIONAL PRESS FREEDOM AWARD
Valdez accepting International Press Freedom Award (cpj.org) |
In a three-decade long career, the award winning reporter chronicled not only stories of Mexico’s organized crime, narco-trafficking, and the corruption of government officials, but also the unseen side—tales from musicians who composed the narco-corridos, mothers whose sons had been murdered, kids from unknown pueblos who dreamed of becoming hitmen. He spoke at a reception in 2011 when he received an International Press Freedom Award by the Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) where he was introduced as a writer who “combined the grit of a battle hardened reporter with the soul of a 19th century romantic poet.”
In his acceptance speech he said, “The youth will remember this as a time of war. Their DNA is tattooed with bullets and guns and blood, and this is a form of killing tomorrow. We are murderers of our own future."
THIS IS A WAR
“This is a war,” he continued, “one controlled by the narcos, but we the citizens are providing the deaths and the governments of Mexico and the US, the guns.”
Javier Valdez Mural (by Julio Cesar Aguilar, theintercept.com) |
He watched as mayhem ensued, recording in his writings the sins and violence inflicted by cartels on his native citizens. He wrote about countless colleagues’ deaths, but somehow, he carried on. What may have secured the nail in Valdez’s coffin occurred shortly after El Chapo Guzman, notorious Sinaloa Cartel drug lord, was extradited to the US in January 2017, after his third arrest.
Though Valdez’s reporting on the cartels had been tolerated prior to Chapo’s extradition, his attempt to explain the power struggle taking place inside the Sinaloa Cartel after Chapo’s departure may have pushed his once untouchable status to the limit. The splintering, Valdez reported, occurred because there were now two factions in the Sinaloa Cartel. Two of Guzman’s sons, known as the Chapitos, led one faction, while Damaso Lopez, a prison warden and right hand man who helped Chapo in his first prison escape in 2001, led the other. Infighting raged well into February.
DANGEROUS LIASONS
In March a man called the Riodoce offices and spoke to Valdez, requesting a meeting after explaining he had important information. Valdez agreed to meet the man in a car in a parking lot, a risky endeavor. The man was a lieutenant of Damaso Lopez, and while sitting in the car, called his boss then passed the phone to Valdez. Lopez claimed he had not betrayed El Chapo, stating he “loved and admired” his boss. But Lopez also criticized Chapo’s sons, the Chapitos, saying they were “sick with power.”
Remembrance for Javier Valdez (cps.org) |
In his career spanning decades, Valdez had reported from deep within the narco world. Most of his sources were lower down on the food chain, and Valdez protected their identity with anomynity. Printing the words of someone higher up the chain of command, like Damaso Lopez, raised the stakes, pulling Valdez and his paper into the fight. In the end, Valdez decided to print the story, believing the information was important for the public to know.
THE CHAPITOS' END GAME
Before the issue ran, he received a call from a representative of the Chapitos, requesting a meeting at a nearby cantina. The Chapitos’ envoy said that the interview with Lopez could not be published because Lopez was a cartel insurgent. Valdez said it was too late—thousands of copies had already been printed and would go on stands the next day. The next morning when delivery trucks began dropping off papers, cartel affiliates followed, buying up every copy. Few copies were seen by the public.
With that action, Valdez realized he may have reached his expiration date with the Sinaloa Cartel. He contacted the Committee to Protect Journalists and discussed relocating. He ultimately decided against the move however, thinking it would be too difficult for his family, and in the next few weeks, the problem seemed to dissipate.
In an interview with Index on Censorship just a month before his death, he explained some journalists had to flee Mexico under threat of death. In his book, Narco Journalism, he described the Mexico journalist's plight: exiled, murdered, corrupted, terrorized by cartels or betrayed by police or politicos in bed with the cartels.
"Now they kidnap, extort, control the sale of arms, beer, taxis. They control hospitals, police officers, the army, people in government and those who finance them. The omnipresent narco is everywhere.”
Even in the newsroom. In his book Narco Journalism, he wrote that local newspapers hired the occasional reporter on payroll who was a narco plant. “This has made our work much more complicated. Now we have to protect ourselves not only from politicians and narcos, but even other journalists,” he wrote.
Valdez’s final article was about a protest in Culiacán against the deadly attacks teachers face by traveling and working in some of Sinaloa’s most dangerous areas. At least six teachers had been killed in the state that year, 2017.
NO TO SILENCE
In spite of his international profile, Valdez knew he was not protected. After fellow journalist Mirosalva Breach was shot in front of her son in Chihuahua, he tweeted, “Let them kill us all, if that is the death penalty for reporting this hell. No to silence.”
Valdez was silenced forever on May 15, 2017, gunned down in the street as he was leaving to have lunch with his wife. At first the murder was attributed to Damaso Lopez, but Lopez testified under oath during Guzman’s trial in New York City in 2019 that neither he nor his son, Damaso Lopez Serrano, murdered the journalist. He attributed the assassination to the Chapitos, El Chapo’s sons.
But with Mexico's appalling track record on closing out cases, Valdez's true killer may never be known. Suffice it to say it was cartel related.
Valdez’s last book, The Taken—True Stories of the Sinaloa Drug War, tells the stories of ordinary people, caught in a terrifying net—migrant workers, teachers, teens, petty criminals, police officers and local journalists. Building on a rich history of testimonial literature, he recounts stories from people whose world did not center on drugs or illegal activities but on survival and resilience, and how they dealt with fear, uncertainty and the guilt that afflicts survivors and witnesses. His last book was a testament to the people of Mexico.
RIP Javier Valdez.
Javier Valdez (assassination.globalinitiative.net) |
For more information on my writing, check out my website www.jeaninekitchel.com. My first book, a travel memoir, Where the Sky is Born: Living in the Land of the Maya, is available on Amazon as are books one and two in my Mexico cartel trilogy, Wheels Up—A Novel of Drugs, Cartels and Survival, and Tulum Takedown. Subscribe above to keep up to date with future blogs on Mexico and the Maya and the Yucatán.
"We are not war correspondents. The war came to us."
Since 2000, 119 journalists were murdered in Mexico because they dared to write about cartel violence and corruption. Thirty-five remain missing. A 2019 report by International Institute for Strategic Studies states 23,000 were killed due to the country’s “War on Drugs,” christened as such by President Felipe Calderon in 2006. Since 2000 due to cartel violence, nearly 200,000 are dead.
Mexico is the most dangerous country in the world for journalists, according to Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ). Last December alone, three Mexican journalists were shot within ten days.
“You want to kill a journalist, you can do it without much of a chance that you’ll be caught,” said Jan-Albert Hootsen, Mexico representative of CPJ.
THE CARTEL PROJECT
In response to the disturbing rise of Mexican journalist murders, The Cartel Project, a global network of investigative journalists coordinated by Forbidden Stories, emerged to continue work by reporters who had been threatened, censored, or killed. Working together across 18 different countries over a ten-month period, they investigated the global networks of Mexican drug cartels and their political connections around the world.
The cornerstone of this collaborative work is Regina Martinez, journalist for Proceso, a national investigative weekly out of Veracruz. Eight years after her death in April 2012, The Cartel Project’s reporting team picked up where her work left off. Throughout her tenure at Proceso, she wrote scathing commentaries on two successive governors in Veracruz who looted the treasury and allowed cartels to operate freely with help from local and state police.
MARTINEZ'S MOXY
Martinez was on the verge of publishing a blockbuster of a story. Her reporting would disclose that traffickers and their accomplices had executed thousands of people: teenage dealers, their families, farmers, politicians, even young women who attended cartel sex parties. She’d discovered an exponential rise in the number of bodies being buried in pauper’s graves. She believed that public cemeteries were being used to dispose of victims of forced disappearances.
Martinez interviewing AMLO, 1992 (photo Alberto Morales Garcia) |
The Cartel Project noted that Martinez told a friend it was the most dangerous investigation of her career. Shortly after that confession, she was murdered in her Xalapa home, beaten then asphyxiated with a dish towel. This killing of a high-profile correspondent for a national magazine set off a wave of targeted violence throughout the country. Martinez was one of the few reporters who dared to refuse bribes or to ignore cartel threats aimed at censoring the news. She paid for it with her life.
JOURNALISTS AS TARGETS
In their investigation, the Cartel Project found that before her death, Martinez was one of a group of journalists targeted by a sophisticated espionage unit run by the Veracruz Public Security Ministry. The unit used surveillance technology and a vast network of informants to gather information, monitoring those believed to be political opponents of the governor. Leaked reports showed analysts maintained files for decades on hundreds of targets, their family members and co-workers, including info on their hangouts and political affiliations.
Martinez’s looming bombshell of an investigation was her death sentence. “She was becoming very inconvenient for people in power,” said a fellow journalist.
She was killed before her story came out. The murder investigation of her death was botched and investigators ignored the fact that her death had been caused by her investigative work. The final report stated she had been killed in a robbery gone wrong. During the ten-month open investigation, murders of journalists escalated, with ten more reporters killed in that time.
LA CHAPARITTA
"Fearless,” said Jorge Carrasco, director of Proceso where Martinez worked as a correspondent from 2000 until her death in 2012. “Everything the local press didn’t dare to publish was published via Regina Martinez."
Born into a family of 11 children, Martinez studied journalism and began reporting news for a local Veracruz TV station in 1980. Called Chaparrita, or “little woman,” in reference to her height of 4 feet, 11 inches and 100 pound frame, she made a name for herself in the field.
“Her work was her life," said fellow journalist and friend Norma Trujillo. “She was really interested in social issues, human rights violations. She was close to the people. That was her superpower.”
It also didn't hurt that she was a gifted reporter, going after the tough stories. Three years before the H1N1 crisis exploded in 2006, she covered the horrible sanitary conditions on pig farms in La Gloria, a Veracruz pueblo that eventually was named the probable epicenter of the virus. And one year later, she accused the Mexican Army of raping and killing a 72-year old indigenous woman.
THE GOVERNORS
Call to action. (Dartcenter.org) |
No matter how dangerous the road, she traveled it. Her doggedness led her to investigate the excesses of power and corruption in Veracruz. That, no doubt, was her undoing. Fidel Herrera and Javier Duarte, who served as back to back governors in Veracruz, became central figures under the pen she wielded like a sword in her investigative journalism.
Under these two governors, Veracruz became the world’s most dangerous place for journalists. Since 2000, 28 journalists have been killed there and another eight disappeared— half during the 12 years these men held office.
The Cartel Project's reporting team discovered that law enforcement authorities in Mexico, the US, and Spain had opened inquiries into allegations that Herrera colluded with the Zeta cartel as governor and took money for his campaign. He also money laundered while serving in a diplomatic post in Spain, but to date has not been charged with a crime. Duarte is serving a nine-year sentence for embezzlement and money laundering.
Part two in the series will pay homage to other Mexico journalists who died while reporting on Mexico cartels. Stay tuned.
Check out www.jeaninekitchel.com. Books one and two in my Mexico cartel trilogy, Wheels Up—A Novel of Drugs, Cartels and Survival, and Where the Sky is Born: Living in the Land of the Maya, my memoir on expat life in Mexico.
CASTE WAR
PART 2
The Caste War of Yucatán began in 1847 and dragged on for decades. Tired from years of struggle, the Maya regained confidence from an unlikely source: a talking cross found deep in the jungle near a cenote. Revolutionary Jose Maria Barrera, driven from his Yucatán pueblo, led his band of people to an uninhabited forest and to a small cenote called Lom Ha (Cleft Spring). It was there he discovered a cross that was carved into a tree. The cross bore a resemblance to the Maya tree of life, la Ceiba, and a new religion formed around it, the cult of the speaking cross.
JOSE MARIA BARRERA
Barrera said the cross transmitted a message which was later given as a sermon by Juan de la Cruz (of the Cross), a man trained to lead religious services in absence of a Maya holy man. Barrera also used a ventriloquist, Manuel Nahuat, as the mouthpiece of the cross, and through this directed the Maya in their war effort, urging them to take up arms against the Mexican government, assuring the people of the cross they would attain victory. All withstanding, the talking cross served as a symbol of hope for the Maya.
Painting by Marcélo Jiminez from Caste War Museum |
CRUZOB MAYA
From this speaking cross a community evolved—Chan Santa Cruz (Little Holy Cross)—and its inhabitants came to be called Cruzob, or followers of the cross. By chance, the cross bore three elements sacred to the Maya: the Ceiba tree, the cenote, and a cave. The cross was found growing on the roots of a Ceiba tree that sprung from a cave near a cenote. As explained by Nicoletta Maestra, the most sacred tree for ancient Maya is la Ceiba. According to their mythology, it is the symbol of the universe. Its roots are said to reach down into the underworld, the trunk represents the middle world where humans live, and its branches arch into the sky symbolizing the upper world and the thirteen levels of the Maya heavens. The Maya viewed caves as the entrance to the underworld and the domain of the rain gods.
Reproduction of the World Tree in Madrid Codex, Museo de Madrid (photo Simon Burchell) |
TALKING CROSS
It wasn’t a far stretch for the Maya to believe the cross spoke to them. In the ancient Maya text, Chilam Balam, priests were said to have heard voices from the gods. So even this aspect of mysticism fell into acceptable practice for the Maya. To the Chan Santa Cruz, the voice of God came from that cross in that tree. It told the war chiefs that the battle should continue and the people should be patient in their fight.
Chan Santa Cruz rebels (photo Ambergriscaye.com) |
To the Cruzob, even though the cross was inspired by a shamanic ventriloquist, the man speaking to them through the cross was God’s chattel, a mouthpiece of the gods. The Cruzobs believed this tree and this cross were connected underground, one hundred kilometers from Lom Ha cenote to Xocen—the center of the world—where the first speaking cross came from. As more and more people heard about the cross, a new religion was born.
Four crosses are said to exist at counter points—tips of the cross—marking the boundaries of the Cruzob Maya. The religion is still practiced and ceremonies performed in these four sacred shrine villages: Tixcacal Guardia, Chancah Veracruz, Chumpon and Tulum, whose geographic positions roughly describe the territory of the Cruzob Maya. In 1935, the Chan Santa Cruz from these last holdout villages signed a treaty of sorts which allowed the rest of Mexico to rule them. The jungle-wise Maya had kept the Mexican government at bay for nearly one hundred years.
COUNTER POINT IN TULUM
I visited the church of the speaking cross in Tulum years ago. Hiding in plain sight and sitting very near el Centro, it was a humble white-washed structure surrounded by trees. A narrow path with overgrown shrubs on either side disguised the entrance that led up to it. Before entering the churchyard, I passed through an enclosed area where a custodial guard sat. He gave a nod and I continued on towards the church. A posted sign instructed that shoes and hats were forbidden, as were photos.
Inside votive candles were lit and the musky scent of copal wafted through the darkened church. The interior was a large open room with seating. Straight ahead, three crosses covered in small white huipil-like veiis sat on an otherwise barren altar. The room held little else except for a Maya woman kneeling on a blanket in a rear corner. Eventually I stepped back outside into blinding Yucatán sunshine.
Huipil covered crosses (photo by Marina Hayman) |
ORIGINAL CROSS
Of the four crosses held at the counter points, one is said to be the original. Tixcacal Guardia village elders fiercely guard what they swear is the original speaking cross and let no outsiders near it. It's kept in a city within a city, much like the Vatican, according to blogger Logan Hawkes, safely hidden away from all save the Cruzob spiritual leaders—a head shaman and a circle of elders. For generations, Maya have flocked to these outposts to worship a wooden cross that became a dynamic part of their history during the Caste War of Yucatán. In Tixcacal Guardia, the church which houses the cross is open to the public on feast days only, but even then it's said the artifact is not on display. It's located on an altar covered with veils in a blocked-off section called La Gloria. No one is allowed to enter the inner sanctum and the cross is guarded day and night by Maya from the region.
Image by Sac-be.com |
FELIPE CARRILLO PUERTO
Even though Chan Santa Cruz, the rebels' capital city, now Felipe Carrillo Puerto in southern Quintana Roo, is not one of the counter points of the cross bearers, it was the main stronghold of the Cruzob Maya rebels during the war. To this day a rotating team of followers keep one week vigils at a local chapel where a flower-adorned shrine is set up in honor of the cross. Tihosuco, an hour to the northwest, is home to the Caste War Museum.
Caste War Museum in Tihosuco |
With history this unique, it's not hard to realize that the newly founded Riviera Maya is but a shell for a more mysterious land of an ancient, respected people who have had an ongoing conversation with the gods and the universe for more than a millennium.
For more information on the Maya and my writing, check www.jeaninekitchel.com. Where the Sky is Born: Living in the Land of the Maya, is available on Amazon as are books one and two in my Mexico cartel trilogy, Wheels Up—A Novel of Drugs, Cartels and Survival, and Tulum Takedown. For you Mayaphiles, my journalistic overview of the Maya 2012 calendar phenomenon, Maya 2012 Revealed: Demystifying the Prophecy, is also on Amazon.
Subscribe above to keep up to date with future blogs on Mexico and the Maya and the Yucatán.