Cenote Ik Kil is considered the power center of the ancient Mayan City of Chichen Itza.
It rests just outside the city and is easily accessible from the narrow Mexican road, after 4-hours of driving out across the Yucatan Peninsula, that is.
The Yucatan has no above ground rivers, just hundreds of miles of rivers that run through an elaborate cave system including limestone stalactites and stalagmites. Occasionally, the ground above the river gives way and a sink-hole is created that provides access into the watery cavern below. These sink-holes are called cenotes. The Mayans believe they are entrances to the underworld, a sacred place they call Xibalba (shi-bal-ba).
The grand cenote at Chichen Itza is intensely beautiful. It drops two-stories underground and is ringed by ceiba trees. Ceibas are the sacred trees that the Mayans believe are home to the goddess of death. Within the damp stone walls of Ik Kil, the vine-like roots from the ceibas hang all the way down to the still pool below, like Tarzan’s jungle ropes, but not naked. Rather they are dressed in ferns and brilliant bromeliads. A slender waterfall drops into the cavern and creates a constant mist rife with rainbows fluttering about as the sun’s long fingers splay out across the rock.
A carved staircase winds its way around and around until it reaches the level of the pool. It brings casual swimmers and spiritual seekers alike to the edge of the sacred waters.
I fell somewhere between the two.
The day was warm and sunny. We'd driven the old road through small Mexican villages for hours stopping occasionally to water ourselves and connect with the locals. Eventually, we left the villages behind for the long stretch of scrub jungle, a destitute area that leaves you feeling like someone is watching you from between the low palms and strangler figs.
We almost missed the entrance to Ik Kil, it is so unassuming. A small sign marks it—a simple thing on a post that looks as if it was placed there as an afterthought.
A few minutes later we were walking down into the mist.
Did I mention that I don’t like dark water?
There is something haunting about the still waters of Ik Kil. Though they are as clear as air, the four-hundred-foot-deep cavern they fall into is as dark as a cloud-covered midnight with no moon and no stars.
And then there is the cave system.
Twenty-feet or so below the surface lie the two entrances to the underground river, one on each side of the cenote. Many miles have been explored via scuba and golden threads strung in the manner of Hansel and Gretel’s bread crumbs, but many more have never seen the likes of man.
I held the hand-rail that is nailed into the rock on the way down into the cenote. The mist from the waterfall left the stairs slippery. When I reached the bottom, I just stood for a minute looking up into the colored light. The vines and roots made my think I was in some middle-earth or alux-haunted land.
To my right, rose another stairway. This one ascended to several dive platforms of increasing heights, the highest of which was a good thirty feet above the water. I was not alone. My blonde-haired, blue-eyed manifestation, Lee, was by my side and several pilgrims were already swimming in the dark water.
I did mention that I don’t like dark water, didn’t I?
When I was three, I moved to Australia. I lived there with my family for five years, and during that time I lived on the shore of a breeding bay for sharks. The water was dark and still, like a calm lake, even though it was surely the ocean. My mother forbade me to go into the water past my knees—which were quite low at the time—in fear of shark attack. One time, a friend came to visit and her mom let her go in swimming. I warned her not to. But she wouldn’t listen. (She did not get eaten by a shark. I am just letting you know this ahead of time so you don’t worry.) Within minutes of her getting about chest deep in the still sea, a long fin rose out of the water right next to her. She did that running like you are in molasses thing that you do in bad dreams where you can’t get away from the bad guy, and I stood helpless, on the shore, watching. I vowed from that time on never to get in still dark water if I could possibly help it.
Knowing there were no sharks in the fresh water cenote did not help one bit. There were grand entrances to a largely unexplored other-world cave system below me.
I really hate it when fear keeps me from doing something, especially something as cool as swimming in the portal to heaven, or hell, whichever the case may be.
So, I climbed the dive-platform stairs all the way to the top and stood looking down, knowing someone else climbed up behind me and was waiting for me to jump. I felt the pressure of them standing at my back, but for a moment I was frozen in my spot. I consciously knew standing there longer would only increase the fear, so I needed to just make a quick decision and jump.
I took stock of the distance to the water below me and the distance I felt I needed to jump out away from the wall to be safe from hitting the rock, and I jumped.
I pointed my toes and held my hands straight above my head to minimize any discomfort upon impact and I hit the water and went down into the dark.
Alone in the deep, I felt the momentum of my body slow almost to a stop, and with a great swash of my arms I pulled myself back toward the surface. When the upward momentum stopped, I was still fathoms deep. So I reached in the direction I assumed was up and gave another great stroke. Still nothing.
This is the moment when you do not panic because you know panicking will only get you in trouble. I wear contact lenses, so I could not open my eyes to see if I could even see the light yet. My breath was still sure in my lungs. I was not drowning. So, I gave another strong swoop and I broke the surface. Moving with great caution, slowly so as not to let on to anyone the great fear I was battling, I wiped the water from my eyes so I could open them and see. Other swimmers were close by and seemed to be having fun, splashing in the cool water. I swam with a controlled stroke over to the make-shift ladder and climbed out as fast as I could.
Swim in a portal to another dimension, check. I didn’t even know it should be on my bucket list. It is one of the most amazing things I have ever done.