Last half of the week

Day 4

Another restless night…I stayed up reading Lord of the Flies..I am ashamed to admit that I had never finished it before…so this seemed like a good opportunity to do that. It is a sweaty, sandy, self-awareness kind of story, which matched nicely with the twisted sheets and low buzzing in my hut. Sometime during the night I felt something wet across the top of my foot…kicking frantically I discovered a salamander had joined my bed. I am sure I spooked him as much as he did me.

The next morning Bill had coffee ready and made me breakfast. I finished off my new Sun magazine and decided to take one of the kayaks east around the peninsula. I grabbed one of the open topped Ducky’s (yes the kind I turned over in France to the pleasure of the cameraman), and headed out. The water was calm but I forgot to bring drinking water (idiot) so I knew I couldn’t go as far as I had originally intended. I paralleled the shoreline …amazed at the variety of birds. A giant Gray Pelican buzzed my head. The jungle was thick. The further I got from my hut the more I thought about getting stranded in that jungle. I would be able to find my way back by following the shore…but it would be a tough go. Being here also makes me think of those that lived and canoed here in the past...when you look into the jungle you can almost feel things looking back at you…it is full of life and movement. I didn’t make it completely around the peninsula before turning back. Forgetting drinking water was starting to become an obvious mistake so I turned around and paddled back to the hut.  I dropped the kayak and went for a swim…the water was perfect. Looking around I didn’t see a single soul within my vision…listening I didn’t hear any man-made sounds…no traffic horns, no airplanes…it was a rare moment…even in the woods back home you can hear traffic in the distance…something….yet there was nothing.

That evening I had a couple of Belikins at the bar. Ramon was there but he was drinking an orange Fanta. It seems that after a hard day of drinking he takes a couple of days to dry himself out a bit…smart. We sat in silence..I read a little and started working on a drawing of a neat root structure I had seen and photographed earlier in the day. Bill made me a piece of grilled Snook with rice and I eventually got tired and headed back to the hut.  Approaching the hut in the dark I saw two yellow eyes staring at me….okay…no idea what that could be...I turned on my flashlight and shined it straight at a really large bullfrog sitting erect near my front door…really large…not the kind of frog I was interested in trying to pick-up. I excused myself and left him alone.

The silence and the alone time were good…but I slowly realized that I could not live by myself. As crazy as my home life gets (honestly…it is nuts sometimes)…I would really get bored in this environment. I drifted to sleep about midnight to the sounds of countless bugs.

Day 5

2:30 a.m. I awaken to my entire bed shaking …I initially assumed that there was a big thunderstorm that was blowing the flexible hut, but then I noticed that there was no wind. My mind strangely went to Mayan ghosts. I had been told during the week that the area was sacred to the Mayans and many were buried there. Bill and Jenny had told me tales of hearing voices outside only to find no one. I just lay there trying to clear my head and figure out what was happening when the shaking simply stopped.  I drifted back to sleep without giving it another thought.

The next morning I woke up at 4:30…grabbed my camera and headed out to catch the sunrise and do some yoga. Immediately when I exited the hut a massive swarm of mosquito’s attacked and covered my body…it was the worst I have ever experienced. I ran to the water ripped off my suit and dove in as soon as I could get deep enough.  I swam underwater as far as I could…trying to lose them. It was still dark out but I could hear them buzzing when I surfaced. I repeatedly dunked myself swimming out ears deep…The mosquito’s were relentless and followed me over a hundred yards out….landing on my bald head like it was a busy airport…NO’Hare International (sorry)…I eventually surrendered…slipped on my trunks and ran to my hut. I shot myself with spray…wrapped myself in a sheet and lay on the wood floor drifting off to sleep when the itching stopped.

At breakfast Bill asked me if I had felt the Earthquake.  Apparently there was a 7.4 sized quake in Southern Belize/Honduras. It was exciting to know the source of my midnight shaking wasn’t Mayan ghosts…and I had lived through my first Quake. …and that also explained the frantic mosquitos.

After breakfast I grabbed a different kayak. This one was a sea kayak and handled much better. I headed west this time toward the Mayan Ruins and enjoyed a good half-day riding the surf. The mosquito’s seemed to leave me alone for a while and the day was enjoyable.  Upon returning I packed my backpack and had planned to explore the trails beyond the Ruins…but about 30 minutes down the trail I couldn’t take the massive swarm of mosquito’s that surrounded me. I had covered myself in 100% Deet (which really isn’t healthy) and that seemed to hold them at bay…except when I would breathe out my mouth I would inhale them…not good. I gave up and headed back to the hut…defeated…later hitting the beach I lay down in the surf and floated there for a long time until my massage.

Nancy rocked as usual and afterward I was completely spent. I crashed hard on the bed only to be awaked by Bill who was dropping off a sandwich that would serve as my dinner for the night…and a piece of chocolate cake…yeah…I ate it too. The night was incredibly quiet as Bill and Jenny went across Corozal Bay to a birthday party.  I was completely alone at that point. The night was really humid…I read a little…reflected on my week…and drifted in and out of a fitful sleep to the sound of a bazillion mosquito’s.

Day 6

Travel day… we made our way across Corozal Bay. Once at the dock I lugged my bag a mile through the streets to the bus stop. The next bus to Belize City left in 15 minutes…but it wasn’t the Express…which meant it was going to be a 4-hour trip. I parked myself in the rear of the bus hoping to get some air. The bus was stifling…lots of locals and a couple of Mennonite Ranchers. Mennonites had a village near there…they were invited in by the Belize government to teach Belizeans how to farm cattle. The Belizeans were never interested so the Mennonites now own lots of land and all of the cattle in Belize.

The bus became an adventure in itself…stopping in every little town…locals getting on and off, coming to and from work or the market. Occasionally more vendors would get on selling chips and foreign packaged junk food…usually accompanied by beggars. Often there would be kids selling bags of fruit…They just stand there looking sheepishly at me…not saying anything just holding up their goods…I simply cannot resist a kid trying to make a living…so I bought more fruit than I could possibly eat (or should eat)…knowing I would have to toss it at the airport. Another strange characteristic of the bus…Thumping music…it was like a disco in there. The driver had rigged a loud stereo complete with a small strobe light. The whole bus vibrated with loud Latin music and many people danced and sang in their seats. It was quite surreal as we rolled down the rough patched road. Looking out the window I could see real material poverty. People living in shacks made of tarps and plywood scraps…hundreds of half-finished concrete rooms and dilapidated buildings that were makeshift homes. Nothing like you would ever see in the worst neighborhoods in the US.  I could peek into their houses and see flickering televisions…or moms braiding hair. With all of that however, the people seem to be happy and almost satisfied.

About 5 miles outside of Belize City, military personnel waved us over to the side of the road. The locals looked puzzled…which made me a little concerned. Two soldiers in camo and carrying M-16’s were standing in the woods across the road. We waited there for about thirty minutes…not knowing what was happening. Eventually a long caravan of military personnel followed by 6 white vans sped down the road. Apparently Belizean dignitaries…we were allowed to continue the trip.

We arrived in Belize City around 12:30. I caught a quick taxi to the airport, checked in and had a great meal at the Sunshine Café…the slogan “We have nice food”…and they did…They also had wireless Internet…so….its back to the lab….hope I can remember all of my passwords.

Thanks for reading

 

 

Belize Blog

Day 1

On my way…and I have to confess…while I enjoy writing…and over the years I have kept a journal while I travel…blogging is new to me, so I will ask for forgiveness up front. I am sure that, like everything else in our world…there is some list of blogging rules…some silent protocol I am suppose to be following…Well I forgot to Google the rules so here it goes.
I said goodbye to the kids this morning. Can you say “politely indifferent”? I mean I know my kids love me…but the moment was hardly epic. They were headed off to Six Flags…oiled up with suntan lotion and cash for extreme volumes of soda…and they have grown familiar with dad traveling to do things that seem a little odd. But they will miss me when someone screws up the input command on the TV.
Karen got me to the airport in plenty of time. Got through security without being randomly checked (I must be losing my edge) and I am working on a glass of Cabernet.
Okay…Tiger Woods posters at the airport. You don’t really see them other places…so…marketing geniuses have decided that the only people who travel…understand what the “Tiger” messages are…I assume it must be the business traveler/golfer/Tiger worshiper stereotype…So this one is of the great predatorial feline standing in a field of tall grass…presumably trying to figure out how to hit a small white ball outta there. The caption “It’s not a setback…it’s a test”…So from that I am to discern that Mr. Woods (doesn’t sound as fun does it) is looking at the situation with the utmost objectivity…thinking about the glory of such a moment…standing in a beautifully landscaped park-like environment playing a game that will net him the average GNP of a small Nation. I know many of us use sports cliché’s…but man…that one is hard to swallow. In most people’s world a “set-back” means job loss…an accident…a problem that delays progress for months or years…a golf ball stuck in tall grass?
Made it to Miami…went to a strangely cool Latin restaurant for dinner down the street. I say strangely cool because the bar area had a DJ with a video screen. The DJ looked like Freddie Fender and occasionally he would sing… wait for it…not Latin music…Lionel Richie…and other ballads from the early eights…with a Spanish accent…it rocked…I had a seat at the bar and soaked it in until closing time.

Day 2

Miami to Belize…Flight was uneventful and on-time…getting off the plane was a lesson in humidity…but I loved it. I was getting that jungle sweat….that heavy feeling that high humidity can give…Made my way through customs and found a taxi to take me to the bus terminal. Belize city reminded me of Barbados…lots of jumbled rum shacks…half built concrete structures everywhere…and (just like in Barbados)…lots of men seemed to be drunk on rum while the women were working. The city was congested with bicyclist…many of them going spear fishing in the Belize River. We pulled up in front of the bus shack just in time. The express bus to Corozal was just pulling out of the lot …I quickly paid the taxi, jumped the bus and made my way to a seat beside a young Belizean listening to 80’s pop. The bus was hot but the three-hour ride seemed to go by fast. At one point the bus shut-off…the driver tried several times to revive it but it looked as if we were going to be there a while. Fortunately he seemed to know where to tinker with it and he got it running again. Along the way we made a stop at a market and a small round lady got on with a basket of plantains followed by another fellow selling sodas and yet another guy begging for change…I snagged a bag of plantains and the best Sprite ever…and we rolled on.
Got to Corozal and grabbed a taxi just as I got off the bus…short $3 trip to the dock and called my hosts. Three drunks were at the dock…one had definitely seen better days as he picked at his greasy clothes for some mysterious reason. They were sipping some noxious concoction from a reused bleach jug. About 45 minutes later Bill showed up in a small boat and I was on my way across the bay to Cerros Beach.
What an amazing spot! We tied off at the dock…I met Jenny in the Thatch roofed restaurant/bar and excused myself to the hut. The hut is wonderful…wood floors, thatched roof and a few necessary pieces of furniture…all surrounded by open-air windows to let the breeze in…perfect.
That evening I settled at the bar…thirsty and tired from traveling. That is where I met Ramon. According to Wendy (the Belizean waitress) Ramon had been sitting there all day…downed 10 shots of gin and several beers…Ramon is 71 and one of the last remaining Belizeans that actually speak Mayan. He was hilarious mixing Maya, Spanish and English all in one sentence. After a couple of Belikin Beers I was actually almost, somewhat able to understand what he was saying…when I got really stuck …a glance at Wendy would signal her to bail me out. Ramón taught me a few Mayan words of which I have already forgotten…and he also taught me how to mix gin and beer…I will forget that as well. I finished with a plate of Bills famous conch and shrimp ceviche…really great…apparently even accepted by the local’s…high praise for a gringo. I hit the bed and slept well with an easy breeze blowing through the cabin and the sound of Ramon sitting in the jungle singing…something…not sure what, but it was nice….I was only disturbed by a tropical storm that hit at 2:00 am and suddenly I felt like I was in Dorothy’s house during the tornado…wow…that was cool.


Day 3
Up at 5:00 a.m. I sat on the beach for a while until Bill came and asked if I would like breakfast (yeah…life is tough). Bacon, Eggs, and Papaya rocked and I had company…Daisy, a 16 year old dog…I am told she is officially the oldest dog in Belize…it seems that most dogs meet their fate via hungry Jaguars or hungry Belizeans. After breakfast Bill showed me where to find the trailhead to the Cerros Mayan Ruins. He armed me with a long stick for poking at any snakes I might find on the narrow trail …I don’t like snakes….didn’t see any…lots of big lizards and some opossum like creature…no snakes. The trail paralleled the shore. I took my time…occasionally breaking off trail to the shore to look for pottery shards. They are apparently plentiful in the area and the idea of owning something that is a couple of thousand years old is pretty enticing…for some reason…what is the reason? An hour later the trail opened to the grounds of the ruins…immediately in front of me was a mound of carefully placed rocks climbing about 60 feet high…a Mayan funerary mound apparently from around 50 B.C. I walked around a bit and noticed how amazingly quiet the area was…wonderfully quiet. On the ocean side of the mound was a Mayan Temple…protected with Limestone masks facing the mound. Climbing it I had an amazing view of Corozal bay.
I took some photos (hopefully you can find them on the site) and headed back. Before hitting the trail I thought about a story that Ramon’ had told me the night before. Belizeans are superstitious and they definitely believe in spirits and the supernatural. Ramon’ explained that by boiling a black cat you can create a talisman to make you invisible. It seems that every black cat has two magic bones. After boiling the cat you must bite into its bones one at a time. When you bite into a magic bone they will disappear (a sure sign they are magic yes?). After biting all of the black cat bones (a disgusting practice I would suppose…maybe ketchup would help?)…put the magical ones in a bag and put it around your neck…when you need to be invisible…just hold on to the bag…so there…now you know…toss away the camo shorts.
Near the end of the trail it is necessary to cross Ramon’s property. He has a small hut on the waterfront that is apparently a place for him to seek seclusion from the wife. I ran into him doing his laundry in a 5 gallon bucket.
Back at the hut the rest of the evening was extremely laid back. A process of swimming in the calm blue-green bay, sitting in the sun reading, napping…and repeating the process…somewhere in the middle I sampled a few more Belikins. It occurs to me that I should probably get some exercise soon…maybe tomorrow? I am thinking about grabbing the kayak and heading down the peninsula. I am also thinking about scheduling a massage. It seems the neighbor does them for $30 US…quite a deal…Time for dinner soon…
Day 3
Restless night…hot…buggy…I could maybe use a fan…I woke up at 0400 went down to the water and did sun salutations…managing to coax the sun up just in time (you are welcome). I met Bill for some morning coffee and he asked if I would like to go into Corozal to pick up supplies with them. I agreed and we hit the dusty road…literally. There is a point just outside of Copperbank where there is a river crossing. The long line of rusty silt covered vehicles reminded me of those Mad Max movies. The Ferry held about 4 vehicles at a time and was made of old worn timber held together with steel cables. A large cable stretched across the river and attached to a crank on the ferry…two guys had the task of turning the crank and likewise pulling the ferry diagonally across the river. They smiled and joked with the passengers as if they had the best job in the world. According to Bill they often work 12 hour days…turning that crank. We drove into Corozal and Bill stopped to check on his pick-up truck that was in for repair. The repair shop was actually some guys’ front yard…strewn with the skeletons of failed repairs. In the back he had a lot full of White Tailed Deer…apparently raised for consumption. Jenny and I left Bill and had breakfast at an Inn in town…Sitting at a table on a terrace with a nice view of Corozal Bay, I had a couple of breakfast burritos.
Afterward we went to the butcher shop. A great place for vegetarians to proclaim “See, I told you so”…two Belizeans were hacking up a pig on a big table in the middle of the shop. Meat was cut-up on the spot and Jenny expertly ordered what she needed and we headed to the open-air produce market. The market was a mixture of produce farmers and large round women selling clothing and what appeared to be collections of old McDonalds Happy Meal toys. The produce looked good…all locally grown and we collected bags of cucumbers, cilantro, tomatoes, onions and broccoli...then headed back.
That evening I took the kayak East. There was a nice breeze and the kayak moved easily. I paralleled the shore which was very dense jungle...I could spot several interesting birds from the water and regretted not bringing my camera. After a couple of hours I headed back and took a swim to cool off.
At 1500 I had scheduled a massage with a local ex-pat named Nancy. Nancy came to my hut and had me lay on a mat on the floor. I get massages all the time but never from the floor. She was a small lady but the low working surface gave her good leverage. It was possibly the best massage I have ever had and I have had some really good ones. She practiced Shiatsu. She said my head would make a good Shiatsu map…I’m not sure if that is good or bad….but honestly the massage was terrific. Two hours later she finished and I was a vegetable. She was dripping wet from sweat…Two hour massage for $30 US…amazing…I scheduled her for Thursday, same time....why not?
I finished the day with Bills really fresh chicken burritos…