Written by Alex Ruelas

Magic whistles and gliding stones

Have you ever asked yourself: How did the ancient Maya build their majestic pyramids? It is hard not to when you witness the sheer scale of them. So how did they do it? What sort of technology or machine allowed them to build such structures? Well, according to locals in the south of the Yucatán Peninsula, it wasn’t a machine at all. It was whistling.

Ancient Maya, some people believe, could move things by whistling. They would blow a tune, and heavy objects, such as stone and the wood they obtained from the forests, would follow their command, floating mid-air and moving wherever they were told. Just picture that scene: the construction site of a shrine devoted to the gods where there is no noise, no banging of hammers or ratling of cranes, just stones that glide into place guided by music in the wind. 

However, one day that power was lost. Someone broke the secret and desecrated ancient knowledge by using modern tools. The music lost effect. Stone and timber would never answer to the sound of whistling ever again.

The mischievous aluxes

Goblins, elves, trolls. Every culture seems to have a name for these magical creatures. Mayas call them aluxes, child-like beings that dwell in forests and come out at night to cause mischief to disrespectful humans. Tradition dictates that to pay respect to the aluxes and avoid their wrath, one must build them a tiny house and offer mundane tributes, such as food, drink, and even cigarettes. This will keep them happy and bring humans good fortune.

 Stories of aluxes abound in the Yucatán Peninsula. In the town of Lepán, villagers swear they heard them in a cenote –clear voices coming from the cave late at night when there was no one else around. Down south, in Laguna Om, people tell the tale of a child that got lost in the jungle. Three days later, he reappeared without a scratch, telling stories of forest children that helped him return.

 Even Cancún has had to deal with aluxes. It is well known among locals that the bridge that connects the Hotel Zone with the airport kept crumbling down during construction. The masons would work on the bridge during the day, just to come the following morning to see their progress in ruins. 

They decided to call a Maya priest, who told them they had to please the aluxes and gain their permission to build. Now, whenever you are driving under that bridge, keep your eyes peeled. On the west side of the road, you'll see a small pyramid under the overpass. That is the home of the aluxes and the only reason the bridge is still standing

Xtabay

They say that those who walk at night in the forest can come across the Xtabay, a female spirit that allures and kills men who wander.

 According to the legend, in a village in Yucatán, there were two rival women. Xkeban was beautiful and had many lovers. She was also kind and generous. Utz-Colel, on the other hand, remained pure and celibate but was cold and proud.

 One day, the villagers saw Xkeban no more. A delicate perfume guided them to her home, where they found her dead. When they buried her, beautiful Xtabentún flowers grew from her grave. Utz-Coleb died years later, but when she did, thorny flowers sprouted from her resting place.

 Jealous, she made a deal with evil spirits. They allowed her to return to Earth in female form to imitate Xkeban’s promiscuous existence. She thought this would bring her beauty, but she was wrong and never understood that Xkeban's grace came from love, not carnal pleasures. Now she hides in the jungle, where she seduces men and brings them to their demise.

 While there are many versions of the story, the Xtabay is often portrayed as a woman coming out of a ceiba tree. Some say the legend comes from the goddess Ixtab, the divinity of suicide. Others relate it comes from a brutal punishment the Spanish conquerors imposed on “unfaithful” Maya women: tying them to the dagger-like thorns of ceiba trees until they bled out. In any case, a distressing ancient tale that warns us more about masculine proclivities than the wickedness of female spirits.

Chechén and Chacá: The warriors that became trees

Also concerned with good and evil dualities, this legend tells the story of two warrior brothers, Kinich and Tizic. Kinich was gentle and noble. Tizic was arrogant and ruthless. One day, they met Nicté-Ha, a beautiful princess. Both fell instantly in love, but only one could have her.

 Tizic challenged his brother to a duel till death. This angered the gods, who covered the sky with thick clouds and hid the moon. They battled fiercely, but there was no winner. Both fighters were mortally injured. It would have been easier to ask Nicté-Ha who she fancied in the first place. Maybe she did not even want any of them. But men are often idiots and, before long, they were both dead.

 Desperate and full of regret, they asked the gods to return to Earth. They accepted but warned the brothers they would come back as trees. Now you can see the warrior siblings in the jungle in the form of endemic trees Chechén and Chacá. The first, evil even in its arboreal reincarnation, oozes a highly irritating toxin. Meanwhile, Chacá, the good guy, produces a soothing sage that acts as an antidote.

 After her death, Nicté-Ha also came back. Today, she lives on the waters of lagoons and cenotes: a lily with its beautiful white flower.

The farmer and the tree

Trees came to Earth with a mission. Some cure diseases. Others provide wood for building shelters. Some more produce food for many creatures. Humans knew this once, but they forgot and started felling forests with little regard for the trees’ purpose. All this destruction made one tree extremely sad. It had once been the happiest tree on Earth, but now, without a mission and witnessing devastation, it has lost its former glow.

 When logging reached his part of the jungle, a farmer came ready to put his ax through him. The tree spoke:

 “Not me!” he screamed in fear.

 The farmer stopped in his tracks. “Can trees… talk?” he said.

 “We can,” he replied. “My name is Ciricote. Trees are the connection between the heavens, the Earth, and the underworld, and we can talk in times of desperate need.”

 “But why didn’t the other trees say anything when I came to cut them down?” the farmer asked, confused. “I don't mean any harm, but we need the land to grow food.”

 “Their mission was different,” explained Ciricote. “Their purpose was to gift their wood. But mine is not. You can plant your crops but keep me around, and soon enough, you will learn why.”

The farmer did as he was told. Patient, he tended his plot and took care of Ciricote. The tree grew tall and its foliage wide. And when the time came, he produced delicious fruits that fed the farmer’s family and the animals that lived around. As the farmer rested in the shade of Ciricote, the tree felt grateful for having a new friend and coexisting with the many creatures that shared the land.