Belize Slow Time

It's been a while and just a few things have happened.

I am sitting in my new five star residence with the most awesome family I
can think of...The Simbanas en Honduras. I have been provided the comfort of
an actual shower without mosquitos or sulfur, an air mattress that has
outlasted and outdone a regular bed in my Guatemalan life, and the feel of
this family who has taken me under their little wing. They have fattened me
up, talked at length about the graduation party that pepe wants to throw me
when they return, and are all around excited about my life, my future, and
just me. And that feels pretty darn good to have people in full support
surrounding you...smiles are definitely an understatement. My heart feels
warm and blessed to know these amazing people.

But the adventure to get here is worth a little story at least. I have a
taken a few sideturns and picked up another on this ride around Central
America.

I will start with Tikal and the magical Mayan Ruins! I found my way to Tikal
where the monkeys howled as I slept on the hard ground of a tent
(appearantly they provide you the tent but not the goods that one might
normally include with the tent...ie sleeping gear). Needless to say an
Aussie and I decided to go halfers and brave the few hours before the 4:30am
sunrise tour was to begin. With flashlights in hands we worked our way up to
the top of the pyramids and sat in silence for an hour as the noises of the
jungle took over (monkeys, parrots, other bird things) and the mist worked
its way out of the trees. The sense of the jungle around you with the mayan
pyramids peering over the mist made the journey all the while, but the
sunrise (which is in the name of the tour) was not the spectacular
red/orange as the dream goes. In fact, there was no sunrise. But you take
what you can.

After the little sleep and early *sunrise* tour, I headed to Belize, the
world of English and the world of bigger dollar signs. I met my first Creole
speaking friend on the chicken bus which does not move anywhere near the
speed of Guatemalan Chicken Buses. In fact, the whole world seems to work
with the "be slow" catch phrase. I tried to work some Creole lessons but
soon learned I had no idea what he was saying anyway. So I just worked my
way to Cay Caulker...the beautiful oasis island off Belize City.

Belize brought a whole new world to chillin out. In fact there is not much
more to do here than to chill. The heat keeps you either in the warm
torquise waters or in the shade eating fresh fruit and talking to the most
friendly locals you will ever meet. Everyone says hello, they smile, and
they know how to work you into a conversation. They can't even be bothered
to try and sell you something or flirt with you...no...the world just works
off of being slow.

I was introduced to Wish Willy only by him walking straight up to me and
saying he needed help with the fish he just caught. Before I knew it, my
hands were dirty and wrist deep in plaintain mush as I worked in some curry.
Next thing I was carrying a pot of coconut fish plantain something or other
to the dock to feed friends and appearantly me. I can't say that happens
everyday in the states for me, but it sure started me out well on this
island.

I met Bianca a day later on the dock with rum punch in hand. Our little
purple cabanas on the south shore only brought the perfect light to the
woman who has only seen the four concrete walls and computer world for the
last few months. We worked our way over the entire 3 mile island to the
north end to watch sunset and drink the only beer made in Belize...Belikin.
Wish Willy, the belizean rastafari man with the dreads cooked Bianca and I
up a shrimp meal for dinner and before we knew it we were stumbling home at
the ripe hour of 9pm happy and drunk with the stars lighting our way along
the shoreline.

The next day was snorkeling adventure which turned out to be more adventure
than we had asked. Our first attempt came very unrecommended by Wish Willy
himself and turned out to be more sleezy and the right recommendation...very
unrecommendable... so we dropped out and walked to the Rasta Boat...the man
who was considered to be the original creator for all these tours.
Unfortunately, at 10 in the morning, the man...the jefe...was already too
drunk to take his boat out. Oh the life of Belize!

However our third attempt got us out on a boat with Emir and our 8 year old
Ozzie...not related to Osborne but does play the guitar. Bianca and I with
snorkel gear on jumped into the serene glass clear waters with sting ray
petting our feet and nurse sharks jetting past our sides. My fears only
faded because Ozzie went in first and I could not let an 8 year old stand me
up. I have never felt the velvety skin of a sting ray and our captain felt
the need to pick them up and kiss them. I have to say that my heart was
still beating faster than normal to have 30 of them in the same water as me.

Then came the adventure ride to Honduras. We woke up and snorkeled right
along the shore only to see the rare spotted eagle ray, another sting ray,
nurse sharks, and some ugly chicken fish that looked like someone has stuck
a froglegs on a chicken. With Bianca's little time off we opted for, what we
thought, was the quick and easy route to Honduras..via plane. Our attempt to
find the one airline that flies to San Pedro Sula, Honduras was not that
successful being that the island has one travel agency and had no idea what
we were talking about. They did not exist in the phone book either. But an
American finally found an old phone number that had only 6 digits, decided
to add a 2 somewhere in the middle and miraculously it worked. The office,
in the heavy belize accent, just told me to come to the airport.

We arrived, but the airlines did not appear to make any of the booth titles.
Even asking, the peole said it no longer existed until we realized they were
just taking the shit out of us. With two hand written tickets in our hands
and after paying cash only, we arrived at the departure gate which required
another $30 just to leave the country. And when 3pm came with no airplane in
sight, I was beginning to wonder if these tickets were to anywhere at all.
Asking only brought anxiety because nobody seemed to even know if Atlantic
Airlines even existed.

1/2 an hour later, a man walks through a door, looks at both of us, and says
"San Pedro Sula?" Our relief must have shown because he smiled his belizean
smile and said "don't worry, we had to wait for another passenger". The
propellor plane had 5 of us with the 2 pilots practically sitting in our
laps. Bianca's propellor started first, but when I looked at my side with
the rust wearing well, I began to wonder if any of this was a good idea at
all, especially since it wasn't even spinning. We laughed trying to blow on
it to help it move, and finally we were waving back and forth in the air
towards the simbanas. An hour later, at the airport, having to use the
blonde hair in full force for a free phone call, I was talking to Emily.

And here we are!

I am excited to see everyone again! I love the adventure, but the body is
getting tired, fat, lazy....you know...all the things it needed. My mind is
feeling more rested, and this last week will be loved with beach to wash the
rest of it away.