Wily Coati: Being Outsmarted by the Tikal Natives

Feb 2, 2010

The hostels in El Remate, Guatemala lack the revelry and unruly social scene you usually associate with youth hostels. The lights in the common area go out at 10, and most travelers are in their rooms by 11. Rowdy backpackers looking for a good time head to the hopping island city of Flores, which is only half an hour west. The only, only reason anybody comes through El Remate is because they really want to see Tikal. Tikal is widely recognized as the most well-preserved Mayan ruin in Guatemala, possibly all of Central America. To top it off, the site is located within a lush tropical rainforest, and many visitors find the biodiversity even more impressive than the archaeology. For animal-lovers, the best time to spot the wildlife is at dawn, when the jungle wakes up. That half hour advantage between Flores and El Remate is crucial for beating the crowds. It is for this reason that we were awake and waiting for a minivan at the ungodly hour of 4:30 AM.

Allegedly, the most stunning views of the sunrise are from the steps of the towering pyramid, Templo IV. Naturally, Murphy’s Law mandates that it be located on the farthest side of the park. Upon arriving at the park entrance, Zack and I quickly paid our fees and made a beeline towards the heart of the jungle, immediately ditching the fellow travelers and acquaintances we made on the van ride over. The more people who feel behind, the better. We only slowed down to periodically check that we hadn't wandered off the wrong trail. As it turns out, the brisk pace was unnecessary—it was a cloudy day so the sunrise was obscured anyway. Nevertheless, the sight was no less dramatic or awe-inspiring. The misty haze that brushed the canopy created an unexpectedly mysterious, ghostly effect.

Perhaps more importantly, the overcast weather seemed to have compelled lazier tourists to sleep in or delay their visit, because for the most part, the park was empty. The sheer sprawl and scope of the site made any encounters with other visitors few and far between. There were times when we had the entire Gran Plaza to ourselves. This relative solitude was a humbling experience that only made us more keenly aware of our natural surroundings.

At one point, we overheard some raucous tittering. It sounded like a huge flock of quarreling birds, and we thought we might test those mad-trekking skills we developed in Belize. Any delusions of shrewd, Mayan tracking abilities were quickly dashed when we realized that the trees around us were filled with scores of green lorikeets. Literally, right above us. All we needed to do was squint a little. To be fair, they are called green lories for a reason - their plumage blended perfectly into the foliage. Nevertheless, even if you can’t spot them in the video, you know the little buggers are there.

Besides the loud chattering of birds, perhaps the most spectacular sound would be the deafening calls of the howler monkeys. The name says it all – initially we thought they were jaguars. They’re cheeky fellows, too. According to the guides they will strategically place themselves near the temple walls so their howls would echo against the stone, further amplifying their voices. It’s like monkeys in stereo. We were told that we were much more likely to hear the monkeys than to actually see them (apparently they’re quite grouchy when it comes to people), but we had made it our mission to spot some sort of primate.

One couple gave us a tip about a nature trail outside the park where spider monkeys had been spotted, but they gave the disclaimer that it was over 20 years ago that they were there. Against our better judgment, we headed in that direction only to find ourselves on a poorly maintained trail that required machetes to navigate. After stumbling through 20 years of overgrowth, a thick mess of vines and branches, we hit an unexpected discovery:

Coatis are actually in the raccoon family. While they weren’t technically monkeys, they were wild, climbed trees, had tails, and there were a lot of them. They were close enough. Really, we were tired, hot, and scratched up, and ready to turn back. Despite all this, at the end of the day, we were as giddy as schoolchildren after a field trip to the zoo. “Did you hear those howler monkeys?” “Those little toucans were so cute!” “I kissed a tarantula!” The only difference is that instead of a zoo, it was the wild Guatemalan rainforests. That still counts for some badass points, right?