Few mortals are afforded the opportunity to venture into the depths of the Maya underworld and emerge alive. But as an author of a fantasy novel trilogy that focuses on ancient Mesoamerican mythology, I knew I had to take advantage of the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The relatively young nation of Belize is known for deep blue coral reefs and white sand beaches, lush tropical jungle sprinkled with ancient Maya ruins from centuries past, and even one of the only pine forests in all of Central America. But one of Belize’s most famous attractions is the Actun Tunichil Muknal (or ATM) caves. Declared by National Geographic as the number one most sacred cave in the world, it is a miracle that tourists are allowed inside—but not without the help of a professionally trained guide.
And for good reason. This is definitely not a tour that would be allowed in the United States!
Getting to the Cave:
In order to reach the inner sanctums of the sacred cave, you must hike half an hour through the jungle, cross three rivers, and finally swim, climb, and trudge your way deep into the earth itself. I read all of the descriptions of how this journey was “strenuous” and “not recommended” for individuals with claustrophobia or health conditions. I talked myself out of doing the excursion several times, but the thought of getting first-hand experience for my readers and my own thirst for adventure finally propelled me to stand on the side of the highway early in the morning and wait for the aged white tour bus to pick me up.
Churning thunderheads tumbled overhead and the humid heat of the jungle pressed in on us as we rattled across backcountry roads. Our guide lectured us on history and protocol of what to expect inside the cave as we jumped several inches into the air with each pothole on the dirt road. Like the nation of Belize, we were a diverse group of adventurers, from a newlywed couple from India to a German software engineer to a Belgian doctor to me, the foolish young American author that still wasn’t exactly sure what she had signed up for.
We finally reached a picnic structure where helmets with lights were strewn across the tables. We disembarked and selected our helmets as the guide educated us on how to operate what would be our only source of light inside the crushing darkness. He packed up our medications and snacks inside a dry bag and beckoned us to follow. We weren’t allowed to bring cameras, water bottles, backpacks, or anything besides our own hands and feet inside the cave itself.
“You will need both of your hands-free for climbing,” he informed us. I swallowed the dread that climbed up my throat.
We entered a small clearing in the jungle brush and followed a dirt path. The guide explained how the Maya didn’t actually disappear as everyone thinks. They had deforested their land so much that it began to affect the local ecosystem. Severe drought drove them to make more and more desperate pleas with the gods, as we would see for ourselves in the caves until finally, the central Maya kingdoms left the area entirely. It was an ominous warning about how humanity’s actions can affect the environment, and how we sometimes wait until it is too late to save ourselves.
Within the first five minutes of our half-hour hike, we came to a wide, chest-deep river with a rope strung across it. The waters were calm, and the heat of the morning already draining, so I relished the opportunity to jump in. We waded across and emerged fully soaked, as we would continue to be over the next several hours.
We crossed two more rivers, each time the guide pointing out the local flora and fauna, such as a harpy eagle throwing its call into the jungle canopy, and the howler monkeys its call sent scurrying through the trees. He stopped us beside a towering ceiba tree to explain its spiritual importance. The ancient Maya believed that the world was comprised of a massive ceiba tree, the branches holding up the thirteen levels of the heavens, while the roots comprised the nine levels of the underworld. The stalagmites and stalactites seen in caves were thought to be the root system of the ceiba tree of creation. Once we entered the cave itself, it was clear to see why the Maya held such a belief.
The ATM Cave:
The entrance to the cave was smaller than I expected, an hourglass-shaped slice into the side of a mountain and hanging with vines like the rotted green teeth of a monster. But what I had expected was the crystal clear waters that covered the entrance. Our guide had informed us that the only way into the cave was to swim.
I tried to mentally prepare myself, knowing it was too late to turn back, so I followed the Belgian doctor down the roughly hewn stone steps, and literally dove in!
The water was colder than the rivers had been, pouring out from within the cave itself from an underground spring. Too deep to reach the bottom and teeming with small silver Mexican tetra, I had to bob my way in after the guide, all the while thanking my mother for making sure I was an excellent swimmer as a child.
We reached the other side of the underground spring and clambered onto crunching gravel. Our guide instructed us to turn on our lights, and we ventured into the gaping darkness ahead of us.
I immediately saw why they recommended anyone with claustrophobia not partake in this adventure. The entrance to the cave was a series of narrow passageways, forcing us to splash through ankle-deep to chest-deep water, squeezing between boulders and climbing our way through. The guide was helpful, pointing out “shin buster” rocks lurking beneath the cool waters, or showing us exactly where to put our hands and feet as we wedged our way through the dark crevices.
As terrifying as it sounds, it was actually amazing! I felt like a child climbing through a jungle gym, complete with a natural water slide into a pool. I amazed myself at how I was able to turn off my head and just focus on what I needed to do next, following the person in front of me. The power of peer pressure is truly a remarkable thing.
After about thirty minutes, including one part where you had to turn your head just so in order to fit through the rocks while chest-deep in water, the cave began to open up. We saw fruit bats flapping away from our headlamps, and miracles of tiny green shoots growing up from the dirt beneath their nests deep inside the darkness. We saw crickets and cave spiders scuttling across the glittering crystal structures.
Ancient Artifacts:
Finally, a chamber opened up with light from a single hole above filtering down, and the guide showed us the first example of Mayan artifacts. Pottery shards that dated back to between 700-900 A.D. were wedged into a crevice. The Maya came to this part of the cave using only torches to offer thanks to the gods. I marveled at how they were even able to make it this far without getting torches wet. The guide pointed to where an opening loomed dark and foreboding and said “The Maya believed the entrance to Xibalba, the underworld, was through there. They were terrified to ever go past this point…until their desperation gave them no choice. We will now be leaving the light zone and venturing into the dark zone.” The excitement of the group tangibly rose, and we marched into the entrance of the underworld.
We spent another hour twisting through the tunnels, following the water and flowstone as the Maya would have done thousands of years before. We reached a flowstone shelf where we had to scale a massive boulder and shimmy our way onto razor-sharp flowstone ledges. This was where the guide asked us to remove our shoes and proceed the rest of the way in only our socks for preservation purposes. The scent in the air shifted from wet rock to dry dust.
We huddled together and inched our way through another opening into what is known as “the cathedral” room. We were instructed to always stay within the areas taped off with bright pink tape. We were so amazed at the sheer size and spectacle of the cavern that we didn’t notice the pottery and artifacts resting inches from our very feet. There was a collective gasp as the guide withdrew a flashlight and illuminated the cavern. The structure of the flowstone was incredible, stretching down from the ceiling until it met with the points sticking up from the floor, forming the columns of the palace of the realms of the gods.
Scattered about were broken shards of pottery, while some pottery remained almost intact aside from several chips. Because the Maya believed that anything created had a soul, before they left the caves each time, they had to break or at least chip the vessels to make sure their souls were not trapped here forever. We saw where they had broken off tips of stalagmites to make tripods to hold the sacrificial pottery. The guide showed us a hieroglyph of the goddess Ixchel, and then directed our attention to a rock formation that eerily matched her outline perfectly, evidence of blood offerings and pottery lying at her feet.
At first, the Maya came in only so far to offer food and other gifts to the gods. But the further we went, always following the direction of the flowstone and the water, we could see how their sacrifices grew more desperate. First, bloodletting vessels, but then, we saw the first skull.
The cathedral room was more than just a beautiful cavern, it is also a tomb.
We began to see more and more human skeletons, ranging in ages from babies to adults. The bones themselves glittered with calcification, and many times, there were only fragments due to hurricanes and flooding washing away parts of history over the centuries. The guide pointed out the skull modification, a ritual in which boards were placed against the skull as an infant to shape the skull as a person grew. It was a sign of wealth and ornamental beauty in ancient Maya culture. Different types and styles hinted that the individuals sacrificed were not commoners, but royalty, and likely sometimes captured or taken from far away. In many cases you could see how they were killed from blunt trauma to the head or disembowelment, one skeleton even bound in a crouching position.
In addition to the artifacts themselves, there was also evidence of where cameras had been dropped and cracked the teeth out of the priceless skulls. This is the reason why cameras are no longer allowed inside the ATM caves.
As we made our way to the back of “the cathedral”, always careful where to step because hundreds of bones and artifacts likely remain buried and untouched, we entered another set of tunnels. We climbed our way through what the guide called the “oochie ouchie” zone in only our socks, stubbing our toes and truly understanding the nickname with personal experience.
I faced my fear of heights in climbing an old ladder secured with rope to a boulder, but the reward at the top was well worth it. Tucked behind a wire barrier, was a fully intact skeleton of what is believed to be an older teenage boy. You can still see where the spine was broken from disembowelment. Sometimes called “The Crystal Maiden” because it was originally thought to be female, the skeleton is tucked away in the upper chamber where the flowstone stops. There is no going further than this. The Maya must have realized this as well, because it is the final sacrifice, indicating that it was likely at this point the Maya gave up their petitioning of the gods for water and decided to leave the area entirely.
By far the scariest part for me was descending the ladder from this upper chamber. But when I reached the bottom, I felt an immense sense of pride that I had done it. We began to make our way back out of the caves, after a total of about three hours inside.
Back to the World Above:
Our journey back to the world above was much faster, splashing loudly through the water and stopping once to turn off all the lights and appreciate the complete darkness that fell over us. There certainly is no darkness as suffocating and whole as that within the bowels of a cave.
The guide shared some of the creepier stories of the cave, such as one group hearing the cries of a child deep inside at night. Many of the guides will not take groups through at night, and it is obvious there is a spiritual reverence held for the place. I definitely had goosebumps!
As we neared the entrance, light representing a rebirth for those brave enough to survive the journey, I was struck with the thought of the individuals that made this journey and never did emerge back into the light of day. I was proud of myself for having the courage to take the trip despite my reservations, and I would absolutely do it again. The experience of trekking through the ATM caves was one of the most exciting adventures of my life, and I can certainly say that I felt that I emerged into the light as an entirely different person with a new perspective not only on the Maya, but on myself as well.
Check out the tour for yourself HERE!
Add my upcoming novel “The Seventh Sun” on your Goodreads HERE!
2 Responses to A Journey To the Underworld!