adios Belize

well, i'm writing these words at my mom's desk in syracuse. my 2-year belizean adventure has come to an end, and i'm having a hard time envisioning when i might be able to get back for a visit. i had strawberries on my cereal this morning, and the internet connection on mom's computer is blissfully speedy. on the other hand, the sky outside my window is overcast, and i'm wearing socks and a fleece. i find myself missing the noise outside my open window - the incessant background noise that for the longest time felt so overwhelming and intrusive. to call me conflicted would be an understatement. i find myself unsure how to bring closure to this adventure as i feverishly prepare for the next. but i thought i'd begin with a list i started in my journal nearly a year ago. here goes...

Things I love about Belize:

fresh pineapple year round; bus conductors that help small children on and off the bus; the 360 degree view from the top of Xunantunich; mangoes direct from the tree; strangers offering to let small kids sit on their laps on the bus; the Hummingbird Highway between Belmopan and Dangriga (easily one of the most beautiful stretches of road in the world); the fact that when someone’s name is mentioned on the radio, everyone in the room will know who they are, and several of them are probably related to them; that it’s OK for women to breastfeed in public; houses on stilts, painted in brilliant Caribbean colors; the mestizo man's love of Spanish ballad singalongs; that the bus to Dangriga and the bus to PG will stop on the road to swap passengers who otherwise would have to wait an hour for the next bus; terraced almond trees and the mighty (& useful) cohune; that I could step out my door and within a half hour be in Guatemala or on top of a Mayan pyramid; ocelots; Mestizos dancing Punta and Kriols singing along in Spanish; spinach that tastes like it actually came from the dirt; the prehistoric sound of howler monkeys getting territorial in the treetops; seven major languages in a country of fewer than 300,000 inhabitants; that people still speak ancient Mayan languages; plantain and cassava chips, johnny cakes and powder bun; that people say hello to each other when they pass on the street; the view of San Vicente from Josh’s verandah; George and his wonderful family and their delectable south indian food; a million variations on the theme of the fried corn snack (salbutes, garnaches, tostadas, tacos, pupusas, panades…); private dolphin shows just off the Placencia shore; Gustavo, Vi, Alma, Abby, Pedro, Pablo, Diana, Jorge, Brenda, Karina, Vanessa, etc...



gracias a Belice.

Cockscomb Basin

the long Easter weekend saw me back in Belize, at Cockscomb Basin National Park in the Stann Creek district. it's a 400 square km reserve, established in 1990 as the world's first jaguar sanctuary. word on the street is that you really can encounter a jaguar in the wild, but sightings are pretty rare, and i didn't have any expectations that i'd be that lucky.

a cribbed quote from Wikipedia: "Habitation by the ancient Mayas occurred in the Cockscomb Basin as early as 10,000 BC, but the first modern recorded history exploration of the basin did not occur until 1988." it's a haven for birdwatchers, and has enough hiking trails to keep a person busy for days. we miraculously caught a ride in from the highway. it's a 6 mile hike in, and was just approaching dark when Rebecca, Matt and i got off the bus from Belmopan. our savior, Gregorio, lives in the nearby village of Maya Centre, which was founded by Maya families displaced when the reserve was created in the 1990's. he took his time and kept his lights off, just in case there were any nocturnal felines lurking around the road. alas...

we took our time ambling through the woods, stopping at waterfalls, swimming in pools, and sweating our asses off. we even managed a lazy tubing adventure down the river, which was low enough that we had to get out and use our feet once or twice. Rebecca still managed to get freaked out by the prospect of floating into the bank, and made Matt her navigator.

shoot, they've even got a plane wreck! this is where the pesky little black flies made a mess of my legs. Belizeans are smart, they don't wear shorts in these situations. when will we gringos learn?

and then there was the hike from hell. already tired from the heat and a couple days of hiking, Rebecca and i decided to make an attempt at what's billed as the second toughest hike in the park (after Victoria Peak, which requires at least 3 days, a licensed guide and involves scaling a sheer rock face using a rope). we were looking for a view of some undisturbed jungle-covered mountains. to skip to the end, we got our view. but it involved some less than stellar signage which caused us to go a good two hours out of our way, and to question whether we might not get a good look at a jaguar while spending the night in the bush. in the end, we hiked for 9 1/2 hours and went somewhere around 25 km. still, it was a pretty kickass view...

random note: our neighbors back at the camp near the visitor's center were a group of birdwatchers from the States, led by Libby, a biology professor who brings a group out each year. when she heard of our need to get back to civilization on Easter Monday, without a vehicle, she offered us $50 to pay for a ride with a local villager. she said she appreciated the good work we were doing with the Peace Corps, and that she hoped we'd inspired her granddaughter to maybe join up once she finishes college. her son also runs an organization in Israel that uses environmental conservation issues to try to bridge the gap between Arabs and Israelis. when he heard i would be in Cairo in the fall for grad school, he gave me his email address and told me to contact him when i was in the area. he said, get yourself to the border and i'll have someone come pick you up... Israel here i come!

the bus back north

Antigua... no, the OTHER one

i realize it's been months that i've been blog-delinquent. my apologies. here are some highlights from my life of late...



i recently took a trip to Antigua. not the Caribbean island, but the Spanish colonial town and former capital of Guatemala. founded in the 1540's, it served at the military capital of Spain's colony of Guatemala, which included almost all of present-day Central America.

it is famous for its Spanish-influenced baroque architecture, and has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Antigua lies in a valley, surrounded by three volcanoes. it has suffered a series of devastating earthquakes that have leveled the town numerous times. its streets are lined with ruins of colonial buildings that have been left standing. the town's cathedral boasts an impressive facade facing the east end of the town's main plaza, behind which lay the remains of what was once an impressive structure.

the region is populated largely by Maya Indians. many of them dress in traditional clothing, and colorful Maya textiles are to be found for sale around every corner. bargaining is definitely expected, and i found that i didn't have to work too hard to do so. i'd be offered an initial, highly inflated, price, before being asked, "what would you like to pay for it?" a perfect situation for those of us who hate to haggle...

Antigua is also well known for its elaborate religious celebrations, starting at the beginning of Lent, and culminating in a grand Semana Santa (Holy Week) celebration. Janine and i decided we didn't want to deal with the immense crowds (and inflated prices) of Semana Santa, so we went a couple weeks beforehand. but we were still treated to a weekend procession that began outside of town at 6am, wound through town, past the cathedral and back to the starting point.

it was a full day event, and the whole town was thronged with visitors and processors dressed in long purple robes. young children dressed in black and white (the girls wearing lace mantillas) led the procession, swinging censers of smoking incense. they were also employed to shoulder platforms carrying life-size statues of religious figures (the smaller ones, at least). the whole proceeding was accompanied by live brass bands playing solemn processional music. Janine said it sounded like the Grim Reaper's theme song.

another famous aspect of the Semana Santa celebrations is the colorful street carpets. i saw two different varieties, one made from dried flowers arranged on a base of fresh pine needles, and the other an elaborate geometric pattern made of brightly colored sawdust. they're reminiscent of buddhist sand paintings - just as time consuming to create and just as temporary. and they line the cobblestone streets along the procession route.

aside from the shopping and the processing, Antigua is a haven for good food and drinks. the place is bursting at the seams with charming restaurants, bars and cafes, and come evening the whole town is moodlit. i've never seen so many candles! these two little girls are getting started early at Cafe No Se, just across the street from our hostel...

Pageant Time!

It’s Christmas pageant time, and the students at Faith Nazarene didn’t disappoint. I went over last week for an afternoon of mimed carols and Christmas-themed skits. Here are some of the results…

The little drummer boys of Infant 1

Shepherds and such












And by far my favorite, the 3 Kriol Ladies in a skit about the importance of showing kindness to the less fortunate. Two of these fine, buxom ladies are from our life skills group.

Life Skills Madness

The HFLE curriculum is all about life skills, and gaining life skills requires practice. And as a youth development volunteer who has had little actual interaction with youth over the course of my service, I decided I needed to get out into the schools to do some life skills practice with the older primary school kids. I approached my friend Anthony Morris, the vice principal at Faith Nazarene School, about the possibility of doing a weekly life skills group.

As it turned out, there was also a Belizean police officer/reproductive health educator named Omar Rodriguez shopping around a similar idea. So, we joined forces to design and implement what turned into a six-week life skills course for Standard 4-6 students at Faith Nazarene and Santa Elena Primary School. The teachers and principals selected the students they thought would benefit most from classes in self-esteem, communication, decision-making and HIV/AIDS awareness, and we got them once a week after school for an hour of games and activities. Good Lord, but we got more than we bargained for. Just try getting a room full of boisterous, troubled 10-12 year olds to talk about the importance of listening and respect after they’ve been sitting at their desks for 8 hours, and would much prefer to hit each other over the head. What exactly was it that made me think I was cut out for youth work?

But if you want to survive in this realm, you’ve got to measure your successes by the smallest of increments. And the one kid who opens up about his or her trouble at home is worth all the hours of what feels like glorified crowd control. I’ve got to trust that the information sinks in on some level and lodges itself in the back of their frenzied minds. And in the end, they didn’t want to see us go, so that’s got to say something, right?

HIV Village Outreach

As an honorary member of the Peace Corps Belize HIV/AIDS Committee, I recently took a trip down to the Stann Creek District to take part in some outreach activities in the villages around Dangriga. I met up with five other volunteers on a Friday in November, and we headed over to the POWA office in Dangriga to get our briefing. POWA consists of a group of boisterous, raunchy, straight-talking Garifuna ladies who have made it their business to educate their fellow Stann Creekers about the risks of HIV transmission and the need for empathy and compassion for those infected with the virus. We hopped on their “Bashment Bus” with Crystal, the condom-filled mannequin, and headed out of town as they sang and danced in the aisles. You just cannot keep a group of Garifuna ladies from dancing – it’s a physical impossibility.

I was paired up with a woman named Maria for the day. We stopped in three different villages, and each time Maria would grab her clipboard and holler for me before blazing through the village lanes hunting for anyone who looked like they had a free minute. She was fearless – it was amazing. We knocked on doors in Sarawee, crashed the pre-lunch crowd at a roadside barbecue joint in Silk Grass, and played transmission card games at a bar in Hopkins. Talking about HIV/AIDS has never been so much fun. Get ‘em laughing, and you can pass on all sorts of important information while they’re not even looking. My thanks to Maria for inviting me along on her mission of informational merriment.

The POWA ladies get their dance on

Merida

The end of October saw me celebrating the end of my GRE nightmare across the border in Mexico. Matt, Nikki and I bussed it from Corozal to Chetumal, and then across the Yucatan Peninsula to Merida, which is reputed to host some of the best Day of the Dead celebrations in Mexico. Unfortunately, heavy rains in Belize and flooding on the Northern Highway - our only route to Corozal and beyond - delayed our departure and we ended up missing the festivities. But our truncated vacation was still worth the 15 or so hours on the bus. Merida is a charming city, with a bustling, beautiful, colonial town center focused around the Plaza Mayor, which boasts a huge park, the city’s cathedral and main government building, outdoor cafes along a covered colonnade, and a juice bar where they squeeze your orange, melon or carrot juice right in front of your eyes.

The weekend market is an insanely crowded conglomeration of stalls selling everything from fresh produce and fish to shoes and the traditional Day of the Dead sugar skulls. Every few feet we encountered someone with a bundle of newspaper-wrapped flowers in the most brilliant combinations of colors, purchased for placing on family graves as part of the holiday celebrations. On “Sundays in Merida” the city blocks of a maze of streets in the center of the old town to make way for bike and pedestrian paths. Not far from our hostel we stumbled on a senior citizen dance party – a 10-piece band sharing a shaded stage with at least 20 elderly couples dancing every Latin step you can imagine. You could see from the way the couples greeted each other with relaxed waves and friendly jibes that this is a regular affair.

Just a couple blocks down the road, the Plaza Mayor hosts stalls selling churros and Panama hats, and another live band and packed dance floor, surrounded by spectators just taking in the view. Everywhere we went that weekend we found people dancing. And with such undisguised, relaxed joy. It was refreshing and restorative just to see the smiles on their faces. Not to mention the pleasure of air conditioned coach buses, handmade pasta, good, cheap wine and shrimp ceviche on a terrace overlooking the beach. And people who were more than happy to encourage you to practice your Spanish on them. Ah, sweet Mexico!