Ishmael told us - Ian, the inhabitant of a tree house that Ishmael built in the jungle, Ally a 20-something British Shamam, and Tila, a beautiful Hebrew, Siciliana goddess, and myself - of this cave in the jungle about an hour away, that had early Mayan paintings. He drew a map. But he had over estimated our abilities to readily find our way in the jungle.
But as we made our way we marked our trails. We were doing fine. Although we were not finding the caves. Just when we were getting ready to turn back to the Tucan Verde - we encountered people.
They appeared to be citizens of the Mayan underworld. There was something sinister about them. There were about twelve of them all armed with machetes - which they were carrying like they were arms and not tools - the leader - who was not Lacondon Mayan - had a walky/talky.
He told us they were the Mexican Department of Environmental Protection (DEP). He said they were there to protect endangered species of plants from poachers. He began interregating us as if we were potential pouchers. And then he started telling us that we were in great danger just being in the jungle, and that we would have to go with them and leave the jungle.
My first thought was that these guys had a large cannabis farm going near by - and they were protecting there criminal enterprise. None of us got a good feeling from them. We did not want to go with them. But they insisted.
I began thinking of the Mayan underworld.
Caves, especially pools of water in caves, were the portals between this world and the underworld. It seemed to me that just by making the caves our destination we had inadvertently summoned the attention of the Nine Lords (Senors) of the Mayan Hell.
The great Mayan cultural heroes were humans that became gods, goddesses by venturing into the underworld and seizing the great knowing, God Consciousness, by triumphing over the fear of death of their little selves and coming into the knowing of the greater self.
Some of the Mexican DEP got in front of us. Some stayed behind us. We were rapidly marched through the jungle. We did not have time to note our markings of the trails.
Then the group behind us fell way behind, and the group in front of us went way ahead. We found a side trail and took it to get away from them.
The trail faded and then we couldn't retrace our steps. We walked in the jungle without a trail for about an hour. Got totally spun. And then we found a trail.
It turned out to be the right trail. But we went the wrong way. About 15 minutes before total darkness we found an excellent established campsite, near a river, and a big loud waterfall. The site had a lot of firewood.
Nobody panicked. Everybody in their way embraced the experience of being in the jungle that night. We made a big fire, told stories, and together felt the mystery pressing on us.
In the morning Ian crossed the river to see if there was anything on the other side. He found many trees which have a bright red seed that is sought after by the Lacondon Maya to make their jewelry.
Ally took the lead when we back-tracked on the trail by which we came. He began telling us that he was being guided by a humming bird - which the rest of us never actually saw. The humming bird also told him that we could eat the petals of a bright orange flower that lined the trail.
We hadn't eaten in 24 hours. The flowers had a wonderful, energizing sweetness.
In about three hours we were back at the Tucan Verde.
When we hadn't returned by 9 p.m. the previous night Ishmael and my two friends of the chess rumble in the jungle, Alexandro and Huyeron, a Columbian who spend much time living in Los Angeles, began searching for us. They walked all the way to the caves.
When they were returning they heard the distinctive sound of a puma - real close. They got back to the Tucan Verde around 3 a.m.
Next morning at first light Ishmael went to the Shaman Chayuum, his mothers husband, and asked what he should do.
Ishmael was ready to go to a lake much beyond the caves where there were rudimental cabanas.
Chayuum told Ishmael to relax. He said he had seen us returning that morning.
Ishmael anxiously waited until 10:30 that morning. Then he began preparing to go back into the jungle for an extended search. Around 10:45 a.m. we emerged from the jungle.
Later that day we went to Chayuums place. I asked him how he found lost things, lost people. He told me that sometimes the spirits talk to him and tell him - sometimes its a humming bird.