The story of the Hero Twins and their battle with death is fraught with violent and clever sorties pitting gods against humans and favoring wit as a better weapon than naked force. It is a teeming, improbable, thoroughly mad and impulsive creation story as the Hero Twins outwit the Xibalban lords and end up apotheosized as the sun and the moon.
We went down the Usumacinta River in a long wooden boat of uncertain vintage. One of those vintages was not modern. They’d been plying the river in these boats for a long time, fading green and red paint, open air canopies to keep off the sun, one outboard motor at the back, a river cigarette boat, clearly contraband friendly, perhaps a conveyor of a few illegal Cuban cigars. But there was romance in it for me. Where did it come from?