On a recent holiday trip to the Yucatan, our twelve-year-old son Ethan learned to ride a bicycle in the ruins of Coba. To some it may seem late in one’s youth to be getting to this point, but due to a set of unrelated circumstances (not the least of which is living in New York City) Ethan’s bicycle rite of passage was delayed. However, once he got the hang of it—in less than a half an hour—it was wonderful to see what the empowerment of riding a bike did for him. (Seeing him ski double diamonds at the age of eight, I never thought riding a bike would be an issue, but was nonetheless relieved to see him pick it up so quickly.)
Once Ethan realized he had it under control, the sense of freedom he got was inspiring to observe. As I reflect back on the trip, the bicycle act itself is more meaningful having been accomplished amidst the Mayan ruins.
Coba is an ancient Mayan City in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico, which only recently has been revealed through excavations to be an enormous complex. It is so large and sprawling that bikes and pedicabs are necessary between the three principal exposed sites. Bicycling to each of these sites was a joyous experience.
Despite the holiday throngs of diverse tourists—and perhaps because of them—Coba offers the visitor a sense of the massive community that originally thrived here.
Ruins attract all sorts and for all sorts of reasons. There are archeologists, architects, and mythologists coming to see what they have read about or looking to uncover some mystery. Unlike a European tour of iconic architecture and culture, these ruins are in the jungle—an exotic notion of Eden away from the noisy thrum of civilization. Being in Coba is in direct contrast to the ruins of the Roman Forum, where you have to be careful that a passing car doesn’t run you down (though in Coba, you do have to watch out for the bicyclers).
The ruins of Coba are massive assemblages of stone: achievements of brute force and intellectual genius that inspire and marvel. To view the remnants of this sophisticated urbanized center with its written language and astrological knowledge is an awe-inspiring experience.
Coba is, like many Mayan sites, owned by the local villages and operated and maintained as a major part of their economy. After reading travel guides that hyped up the disappearance and abandonment of the Mayan cities and civilization, it was surprising to discover that practically everyone in the surrounding villages, and for that matter in most of the Yucatan Peninsula, is Mayan.
The tour guides at Coba were all Mayans and fluent in the ancient language. There wasn’t anything extinct or lost about them. After two thousands years of being displaced by European influence and intrusions, the indigenous population survived and was now interpreting for the gathering crowds their ancestors’ achievements and brilliance.
In reflecting on Coba—between discussions of alien involvement to the accuracy of Mel Gibson’s recent movie “Apocalypto”—it’s interesting to ponder that the duration of time between Mayan times to the present is insignificantly small when compared to the growth of our species in general. Many of us visit ruins for the sense of continuity and the connection that we all have to each other despite our perceived differences. It was a reoccurring experience to come upon a tour group in the complex and hear the guide describe the Mayan’s human sacrifice – and then listen to group members react … in Spanish, French or English.
I had an epiphany at Coba while watching my son bike through the ruins. Life moves on through time like a river. The clarity of this passage is maintained in the rituals that we make for ourselves. Ethan was passing through one significant milestone of his own while we, as part of a collective, were becoming vividly aware of another milestone in our own humanity.
