A BUMP ALONG THE ROAD

PALENQUE,CHIAPAS-

The bus announcers' early morning shouts of "Zapata, Ocoto," rustle me awake at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m. I try to go back to sleep but the bus caller has a job to do. I have been in miserable, humid Palenque since Friday and my sweet spell of traveler's luck has been interrupted.

I'm high on the heels of a wonderful visit to San Cristobal de las Casas when I arrive in Palenque on a Thursday afternoon, but by the early hours of Friday morning my bliss would turn to complete shock.

I check into the Jungle Palace at El Panchan, a collection of roadside cabanas which sit on the road to the Palenque ruins. Mosquitos, toads and howler monkeys also share this lush, green space with weary human travelers. My cabana is very rustic but I appreciate the alone time. I organize my bags and make plans for an early morning tour of the famous waterfalls of Agua Azul and Misol-Ha. But by early Friday morning it becomes clear that I am the victim of a theft. My cell phone, which lay next to my head, has been stolen! My wallet which contained my atm card and no more than 50 pesos,and digital camera (with pictures of the Palanque ruins) are also gone. I am amazed that I can get past the material loss and I am left wondering how and where I will sleep that night. It is not suggested that I involve the police.

http://www.raingod.com/angus/Gallery/Photos/NorthAmerica/Mexico/Chiapas/images/PalenquePalacio01.jpg

I am upset and feel quite vulnerable. I have no money on hand and the only lodging option available to me that night is the same unsecured cabana where the theft occurred. Steve, an older, and talkative American appears on the scene and takes me under his wing. We have to go into town because there are no land lines at El Panchan, in fact land lines are a luxury available to very few Mexicanos. Meanwhile, workers at the Jungle Palace "find" my wallet sans cash but complete with my now cancelled atm/credit cards.
Initially, I am happy to meet Steve and accept his invitation to stay at his makeshift jungle lodge. It feels okay to accept the "kindness" of this expat gringo, the quintessential 60's era pothead who has simply dropped out of American society for good. Much later it becomes clear that there is a very good reason for his living alone in the jungle and I realize that I have not made a good choice. The price of free lodging is much too high. It occurs to me that I must find a way to borrow money instead of staying one more night with a quirky old man with poor social skills who is so achingly lonely that he exhibits lagorrea, or diarrea of the mouth!!

In the end it is technology that will save me. I petition Federico,a dear friend, who sends an influx of money via an online transfer through Western Union. I also send a text message to my American friends Kelly and Hannah via Yahoo messenger. They just so happen to be in Palenque that day. They come to the roadside cabana and take me away from this awful, twisted situation. I am grateful and set free.