As a doctor of anthropology, archaeology, and linguistics, Eva has always been aware of the difference between theory and practical knowledge. As she departs for a series of research treks to the far corners of the earth, Eva soon finds herself facing several intriguing, ancient mysteries that will test her skills and teach her unforgettable lessons about the power of the universe. Eva begins the first of seven treks in Palenque, Mexico, where, with the assistance of Doctoro Ruz, she soon learns the truth of the glyphs of Pakal. Next, she travels to Olduvai, Africa, where she is guided by the Maasai Chief Kibo as she seeks the source of mankind, the Garden of Eden. From there she journeys to Hokkaido, Japan; Santorini, Greece; Rapa Nui, Easter Island, Polynesia; and finally to Columbia, South America, where a Kogi Shaman summons Eva and provides evidence of ancient aliens and a dire warning for all mankind. In her search of the origins of mankind among the conflicts of interpretation, source validity, religious debate, and discrimination, Eva is guided by ancient wisdom as she uncovers a series of perplexing mysteries that reveal the devastating effects of past mistakes.

TREKS

Volume OneBy F. Imani Vegas

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 F. Imani Vegas
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5176-2

Chapter One

Trek #1

Pakal

In Situ: Palenque Mexico.

Day One:

I step from the decrepit helicopter after a short flight from Mexico City, into the smothering humidity. My guide is waiting, rigid, arms folded, glaring. An ominous welcome. What's macho man's problem? Do I have misgivings of this trek, never, of this guide, seems so. Here we go again, that old male vs female conflict but the secret of the Lid of Palenque awaits.

Into the jeep and a short ride to a seasonal camp with the Temple of Inscriptions, 24 metres high, towering nearby.

As we drive Jesus glares and I observe. He is short, rugged, bronze, pure muscle, graying ponytail, super clean and around 50 maybe. No Americanization here. He wears harache sandals, chinos, light white cotton tunic with red Azteca sash, just like the postcards. It's in his eyes. The distain disturbs me. The eyes are the window to the soul it is said. For an expert linguist he sure doesn't say much.

I feel his intrusion. I have always had that half metre comfort zone. He is too close and I can feel his thoughts. "Too young, probably arrogant and demanding. Nice green eyes and red hair but still a gringa. A qualified archaeologist, we shall see."

Suddenly Jesus says, "the commercialization of the ancients treasures puts an ache in my heart". I respond. "Si, I agree we do not properly respect our treasures for the knowledge they impart". He nods in affirmation. That went well.

We arrive and Jesus prepares a meal of spit roasted butter chicken, my favourite. Rice, beans and lots of poblano peppers well salted in the roast trough below. I will savour the taste of the buttery meat, the creamy rice and the bite of the peppers. Welcome back to Mexico I say to myself. Simple lemon water to drink and silence. Jesus grunts as he passes a wooden spoon and bowl. I boldly respond "gracias por la comida" "thank you for the meal" and he just glares back at me.

Okay Jesus, time to get things sorted out. A picture of Father's face, disapproving as usual, flashes before me. The old anger rises. Calm down, I tell myself, I can not let my Basque volcano bubble. I firmly state the purpose of my being here is to get answers to some questions regarding the Lid in relation to my research in anthropological cultural connections. I appeal to his expertise. I comment, "there may be a link between Mayan and Egyptian glyphs". His eyes flicker. The "ah ha" moment, and I continue matter of factly. "That's your area. I am here to review old information and apply new techniques. Is the Lid telling the truth?" There's that glare again. "Is it history, prediction or just plain storytelling"? I sigh as Jesus stands abruptly and walks away. "Buenos noches" I shout after him. Looks like this will be an intense trip as I have already offended him. Interesting, his pride is overriding the research. But wait, didn't I just do the same thing? As latinos, we both need to keep focus and our passionate emotions in check.

Day Two:

Café with chocolate steaming, perfecto. Tortilla wrapped leftovers and silence. Was that a little smile from Jesus? Progress or a smug smirk? "To the jeep, rapido, rapido!" he directs. "Relax" I reply, "I prepared my pack last night, lets go." I know the midday heat is searing so get to it early in the cool, an inside joke! I smile as I realize we look like salt and pepper shakers with our matching white shirts, chinos and haraches. His red sash and my red neckerchief, an old trek habit. He is pepper and I salt. Amusing.

In situ: no one there, off season, only mud, steamy rain and mosquitos. A flash of vivid green. A good omen, a fat iguana, adviser of the future, lounging in a nearby tree. Reptiles always calm me, maybe it's their methodical progress in life pursuits. One of my flaws is impatience.

Jesus appears surprised at my apparent pleasure. I am aware he is thinking "is this chica loco? The GCA said she was a respected doctor. What are these new methods she speaks off?"

Silently a deer, Huichol messenger of the gods, watches as we walk the site. We are absorbing every detail, our minds cataloguing and wonderment pervades the air. Already the vines creep across the terrain reclaiming its' own. Although slathered in insect repellent, the mosquitoes hover like a quivering cloud, encompassing us.

Back to the jeep and camp where Jesus brings out canvas stools and passes spears of Jicama dipped in lime and sprinkled with chipotle powder. Refreshing. Did I detect a softening in those brown black eyes? I pull out my well worn leather notebook and write furiously. Preguntas, questions.

Jesus grunts and speaks! "Ironically I am called Jesus like the Christian savior but also Pakal like the pagan king of Palenque." I freeze, que, what? A descendant of Pakal? Jesus, his face full of wisdom shared, clarifies. "I am of the family of Ruz who discovered the Lid." I break into a broad grin and declare, "I knew you were especial. I could just feel it as we walked the site. One promise of you Jesus Pakal, por favor, accompany me to the Lid at the museum?" "Si" came his reply. No more, sit and ponder. Dismissed. I flip open my notebook and write. I have mixed emotions. Jesus Pakal infuriates me but at the same time I feel drawn to him.

Jesus Pakal walks away saying "we talk at la comida. Fresh iguana tonight." I jump up and shout "no no" as he turns and laughs loudly. "Lo siento, so sorry, we have apollo, chicken, again." Comedian! Soon la cena es lista, the dinner is ready. A little chicken and a lot of tortillas. No iguana meat. All is well.

"Time for a story" begins Jesus Pakal abruptly. "Take notes if you must but listen only, no questions."

"Pakal, his full name was K'inich Janaahb Pakal 1, which translates roughly as the Great Sun Waterlily Shield, was a boy king like Egypt's Tut. At around 12 years old he began his rule over a war ravaged kingdom. A just and ambitious king, he extended and stabilized his nation during his 68 year reign. He died a natural death, August 28 AD 683, unlike Tut, who it is said, was murdered by a treasonous trio." I recall the conclusion that Tut died of infections from an injury in a fall. Another ancient mystery. Jesus Pakal continues, "Pakal was buried, as was the custom for nobility, dusted in Cinnebar in a limestone sarcophagus exquisite with a carved border of glyphs. His body was surrounded with jewels of gold, jade masks, obsidian dagger and numerous other items. His people were thankful to the gods for such a wise and powerful ruler." Jesus Pakal's face beams with pride.

I have a mind flash. Ah, once again the selective memory of man. Fact or fiction. The world over. When alive we are mere humans but dead we are saints and divine. Convenient.

Jesus Pakal rises and walks away. Is he a control freak or a provider of food for thought? Was the story an appetizer for me? "Buenos noches, good night" I shout. He turns, replies "Buenos noches" and winks. He is just too much! I am starting to like this guy.

Day Three:

Heavy mist. I am somber, sad to leave this site. Another walkabout. An iguana winks at me like a prehistoric Jesus Pakal and I smile.

I remind myself, focus, feel the history, be there watching, listening. Daydream of family life, temple life, peace or war, feast or famine. Feel the colours, blood red, deathly black obsidian, yellow warmth of the sun, blue of sky, brown of soil, and jade green of all living things. Pray to the gods.

I sit and sip my lukewarm café mocha. Chocolate, food of the kings and I taste life. The Lid will provide the answers. This place seeps into my heart. Mayan magic?

Jesus Pakal sits forlornly at the jeep, deep in thought, unaware of my approach. We both feel the reluctance of leaving. The sense of connection is tangible, familial.

Gruffly he orders, "get your stuff together little sister, we go." Little sister? Another story this night big brother? Back to camp we go.

La comida, the meal is cerviche, fresh fish marinated in lime, delicious. I love the clean smell of fresh lemons and limes. The white flesh of the Tilapia fish melts in my mouth. The tender tortillas handmade by Jesus Pakal cradles the juicy blend. Pinto beans and slivers of spicy peppers fortify the mix. I love it. "Cerveza or vino, beer or wine?" enquires Jesus Pakal. I reply, "vino tino por favor". He pours, grunts and begins.

"Alberto Ruz discovered the stairway in 1949 and the Lid in '52. Three panels of hieroglyphs were in the upper sanctuary and the Lid is said to predict the future with the return of King Pakal from the afterlife."

"Mayans are astronomers and astrologers as the circular calendar will attest to. The constellations tell what has been and what will be."

My mind flashes. I ask "do you believe in the Mayan prediction for December 2012? End of their calendar and of the world?" Modern scientists describe a coming constellation juxtaposition that will create disastrous solar flares and warn us of the need to prepare.

How? It is said our current worldwide natural disasters are just fore cursers to the catastrophic event. Visions of Nostradamus. End of the world? Only the passage of time will reveal.

Jesus Pakal responds. "Let me clarify. The prediction is for the end of an age not the physical world. I believe there will be chaos but the result will be an awareness and a new path for mankind".

Jesus Pakal continues. "As told by her stars, my wife died while giving birth to our twin boys". I think of the Mayan myth associated with twin brothers. "My wife being rebellious", he smiles sadly, "had chosen their names. Pancho after Villas and Emilio after Zapata, our famous freedom fighters. Pancho teaches science at the University of Mexico while Emilio doctors in a small village clinic."

"It is the custom of the Mexican government to educate doctors for free with the understanding they remain in the country and serve in local small hospitals and clinics for a minimum of two years. Most remain."

I understand. His gruffness is not arrogance but an emotional barrier. I protect myself by concentrating on my assignments and Jesus Pakal by his demeanor. As we look at each other I feel his stare, knowing he can see my soul. Is he a Shaman, Mayan, Aztec? Jesus Pakal responds verbally to my thoughts. "I have the gift as does Emilio. I see your colours as you see mine." I feel the tears well as together we feel the groans of the cosmos and the mutual awareness of our exposed vulnerabilities. We have sympatico.

"I have so many questions" I declare, "and such a short lifetime to learn. "Although I believe in connectiveness, still I seek a sense of belonging." Laughing I say "I call myself 'schizo'. "Organized, logical, sometimes anti-social, the quiet side but also creative, boisterous, a people person." Neurolinguistic testing showed I use both sides of my brain equally. Unusual they had commented. Not really, we only use a small portion of our brains abilities. I seek direction in my life."

Jesus Pakal smiles and softly says "si, we are parts of the whole, both observer and participant. Acknowledge this gift although oft times it becomes burdensome. Let Earth Mother guide you."

Heavy! No sleep this night. Dreams and more dreams. Feeling too many colours! I struggle to keep my emotions in control. We are "hot blooded", madres words from my youth, "You must train yourself to be calm and in control."

Day Four:

A short flight back to Mexico City and I don't know what is more stifling, the heat or the masses. We escape into the Museo Nacional. No cameras allowed but researchers can have access to prints of the glyphs. Jesus Pakal has connections, appears well known by the staff and we are escorted politely into a well lit air-conditioned study room.

Jesus Pakal starts to pull file after file from the cabinets. This is apparently familiar territory.

His eyes glowing, alive like embers of a campfire, the linguist emerges and recites translations by memory like introducing old friends. I am impressed.

I view the Lid sketches on the huge wooden table, noting the absent corners. Aloud I wonder, "were they broken off?The carvings appear disconnected or does each side of this border describe a different theme?" The artist within arises and I stand up to look from afar. Never view a painting close up, the effect of the brush strokes are too distracting, view from a distance to understand the intention. I was well taught. The graphic beauty of the border is astounding. Suddenly I feel a shivering wave, blurry, as the sketches seem to shimmer and lift from the pages. I whisper, "dimensions, the curve of Mother Earth, the sacred Mayan calendar surrounds me. Jesus Pakal, the circle of life. Let's mitre the corners! The borders will be connected. It is all about dimensions."

I can barely breathe as Jesus Pakal grasps my hand and painfully squeezes. We both sigh deeply, look at each other and smile. Jesus Pakal quotes the Mexican proverb "verdad podece pero no perece, truth suffers but never perishes." We seek the truth.

I fold the sketches to overlap the corners and the Lid tells it's tale. I comment. "No missing glyphs as happened in ancient Egypt. Jealous new kings commonly erased traces of competitors, thereby adjusting history and records to their own liking. Ramses changed the entire outcome of his war with the Hittites, he actually lost."

This was it! Jesus Pakal says the borders on the Lid reveal the record of Pakal's reign and foretells his afterlife. The glyphs will now be computerized and translated in sequence. Puro verdad, pure truth.

Respectfully Jesus Pakal tells me "I didn't expect the modern new techniques in Archaeology would be a little redhead with jade green eyes." Smiles. We are now two experts collaborating, and our bond strengthens.

I tell Jesus Pakal that my doctoral thesis referred to the Olmecs of Mexico, the links between the Aztec, Maya and Toltecs. I alluded to the "visitors from the East", a major element of the myths. Was this the "continental connection" long before the arrival of the Spanish in Central and South America? Thus began my fascination with cultural migration. I had vowed my first trek would be to Mexico. This is my seventh!

Jesus Pakal nods and replies "as a linguist I have researched the similarities in hieroglyphs here in Central America and Egypt. The concept of pyramids is not random. Many ancient societies had a proclivity to the study of astronomy. The Aztec, Mayan and Inca life was based on star interpretations. I agree with your conclusion of linked civilizations, not isolated groups.

I express my basic mantra. "If we all originated from a common parent why are we so cruel to each other? Is it lack of tolerance for race, religion, status in life? Are we not family? Is it that we are so imperfect? Lives based on ego and greed? We make such horrific mistakes and seem never to learn. We repeat and repeat our history. Over and over the downfalls of empires and rulers, why? Is it human error, ecological disasters, war or a combination of all? Are we just a flawed species?"

Jesus Pakal smiles and continues. "Earth Mother will guide you to more sites, more questions, more colours. Be assured we will meet time and time again and continue our work here in Mexico, Belize and Guatemala as the ancients emerge from the jungle."

Time for me to leave for my next trek, destination Africa. Seeing my sadness at leaving, Jesus Pakal reminds me. "We are destined to be family and so my little sister I say "hasta luego", see you soon." We agree to email weekly to update on our respective research.

Mexico teaches the effects of natural disaster, drought, famine and war. The need for good leadership is essential for a civilization to thrive. The times change and society needs to prepare and adapt to those changes.

Chapter Two

Trek #2

Kibo

In situ: Tanzania, Africa.

Day One:

I would enter Tanzania at Nomanga and exit via the Maasai Mara to return to Nairobi, Kenya by end of August. Next time I will fly from Nairobi to the good airport at Amboseli. I shall visit the Maasai land and specifically Lake Natron. This trek to Olduvai Gorge considered the centre of civilization, also referred to as the "Garden of Eden", will challenge the bible interpretation of Adam and Eve. Is this the true origin of man?

Always considered "strange" I am comfortable in my ability to see people's auras. Their colours reveal the inner self and both protect and encourage me. I feel the colours are our cosmic connection since we and our universe consist of masses of energy. The glow of being!

(Continues...)

Excerpted from TREKSby F. Imani Vegas Copyright © 2011 by F. Imani Vegas. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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