The Belizean Vibe

I’ve been here for eight weeks now. Seems like an adequate amount of time to get the feel for a place. And it feels good here. Belize will forever be a place that elicits a smile from me when mentioned. It’s a place where the people are welcoming and friendly and resilient. Where there are zero resources and inadequate governing and an inability to meet the needs of its people. And yet - this country is alive and always striving towards something better. It’s a more simple life here without a lot of pretense. The people keep themselves busy, the movement is constant, and yet - life swirls at a slower pace than the western world. People in professional capacities advocate for more of everything for those who need it and swing back and forth between feeling hopeless and determined. Kids and adults swim and bathe in the local Macal River, bikes ride over the dusty, pot-holed roads, and the major highways (really a two-lane road) are lined with children of all ages walking home in their school uniforms. Street food (rice, beans, and chicken) is sold under colored umbrellas at most corners and little burrito shops can be found on most streets, enticing locals and tourists alike with their fresh watermelon and papaya juices. Creole is shouted back and forth between most locals and fans of Bob Marley, sporting the dread-lock hair style, eagerly await Gringos to pass by their table of hand beaded jewelry. Old American school buses chug along the narrow town center streets, headed east towards the capitol and Belize City, or west towards the Guatemalan border. And taxis are everywhere, drivers shouting out to foreign bodies, even the ones they see everyday. Dogs roam the dirty grass strips on the side of the roads looking for vacant food containers, all too scrawny, too dirty, and too sad. Chickens cluck in front yards and along the highways, roosters crow at random times, and lots of people walk around barefoot. Reggae club music can be heard thumping in the two local clubs most nights and the bizarre “punta” dancing is a sight to behold in the infamous Faya Wata club. Small grocery stores that are run exclusively by Chinese people sell fresh made tortillas and Coca Cola Light. The buses are way too crowded and stop way too often along the side of the road to drop off and pick up, and there doesn’t seem to be a speed limit in Belize. Or too many rules. People help each other out and generosity is the name of the game. The heat is paralyzing, most days it’s an ever-present companion. And when it rains, it rains hard - flooding one of the two bridges in short time, and creating waterfalls which run down along the big hill into town. People sit in hammocks or on front porches, or in their cars - wherever they find shade. And not a lot happens that people don’t pass around like gossip fresh off the newsstand. There are still flags hanging up, remnants of Septembers parties and signs that say, “Standing proud and moving forward, I am Belize.” Pick-up trucks pack in locals in the back like sardines, football (soccer) is played nightly, and there is an energy to the movement of the town.

And just as San Ignacio has it’s own vibe - so does Caye Caulker. I spent the weekend there again and realized for the second time, how incredibly peaceful and beautiful it is. It’s laid back in a way that cannot even compete with the rest of Belize. It seems only tourists wear shoes, and even the hello’s come across lazy and drawn-out. If there was a sign to help the tourists when getting off the boat, it would read, “SLOW DOWN.” I like the tamale guy that walks around the island with his cart shouting “Tamales, I’ve got hot tamales!” And I like the Bread Guy - he walks around with a tray of fresh baked banana bread in the morning and an assortment of desserts in the afternoon. I like the Lazy Lizard at The Split, where actual lizards (huge ones - the size of cats) live under the foundation and come out when it’s safe. I like that the water is five different shades of blue, that people fish for yellow snapper with just a line and some bait off the beach’s edge, and reggae music is played all day long, everywhere. They’ve even managed to put Cher songs into Reggae stylings. I like the nice locals who park themselves on the side of the narrow main road, asking to braid your hair, sell you coconut jewelry, or get you to eat lobster at their shack that night for ten percent off. I love all the competing snorkel and dive shops, the Rastafarian colors, and the large proportion of dread-lock wearing locals. There’s not a whole lot not to like about the island.

I like it here. I like the way Belize moves. And I like the way Belize celebrates. The month of September was impressive with all of the official celebrations and the culmination of Independence Day on the 21st. (I will never forget my jaunt in the parade!). But there is an air of celebration to even those things that are not official, such as birthday parties, baby showers, funerals, and volunteer appreciation day. I’ve participate in my share of activities and it’s been great. Last week I participated in World Mental Health Week, here in Belize and to kick-off the celebration we had a balloon lift-off. Hundreds of yellow and orange and white balloons floated into the blue sky on a warm Wednesday afternoon. This was after the speeches, the guitar-playing entertainment, and the address given by a patient who suffers from mental illness. All pretty cool. While I’m sure there’s more excitement on the near horizon, I’m looking forward to Garifuna Day - on November 19. Another cultural experience. Another celebration. Another uniquely Belizean experience.

Some pictures

Spelunking the ATM...(No, not the Cash Machine)

Saturday October 2, 2010

Coolest. Thing. I’ve. EVER. Done. Period.

I almost can’t find the right words to describe how awesome of an adventure I had. Truly unforgettable. Actun Tunichil Muknal, or ‘ATM’ as it’s referred to, is one of the most adventurous things you can do in Belize - the trip takes you deep into the underworld that the ancient Maya called Xibalba. Our rickety little bus left San Ignacio at 7:30am and drove over an hour along the Western Highway towards Teakettle Village. We hiked for about 45 minutes through the jungle-like forest, on partially visible trails and earned a short lesson on botany while catching glimpses of rare butterflies - like the Owl Butterfly. We had to cross three rivers which were shallow (waist high) and not terribly wide. I think a few of us might have squealed with delight and we waded into the first river...there is something so completely thrilling about being on an adventure where you have to wade across water. With the first step in, as water fills your sneakers, rising up to soak your shorts - there is a moment when your brain tells you to ‘stop, something’s not right, we walk over water, not through it.’ But then you remember quickly that it’s all part of the adventure, and soon find yourself standing in the middle of Roaring River, looking in both directions on an endless ribbon of water, and you feel giddy standing there on those slippery rocks, fish swimming figure-eights around your ankles.

In short time, we made it to the wide, hourglass-shaped entrance of the ancient cave which is surrounded by lush jungle and beautiful pools of water with moss-covered rocks. It feels completely untouched and undisturbed and yet alive with the history of the ancient Maya who used the caves as their sacred spot - a bit like from the book of a childhood fairytale...utterly enchanting. We donned our helmets complete with headlamps, and dove into a slightly frosty 20-foot deep pool. After a brief swim into the caves, our feet touched rock and for the next three miles, we twisted and turned our way through the underground labyrinth, swimming, walking, and climbing our way deeper and deeper.

Giant shimmering flowstone rock formations left our mouths open in wonder, and in the next turn of the bend, we were awed by thick calcium-carbonate stalactites dripping from the ceiling. Water rushed around us, pooling in some places and moving with a fast current like a waterfall in other places. Our headlamps illuminated stalagmites growing up from the cave floor (in phallic arrangement), and tiny bats flew around the tall ceiling. It was massive inside the caves, kind of like a mountain that was hollowed out with an airiness reminiscent of gigantic ballrooms. It was mind boggling to think that we were underground, as anti-claustrophobic as it was.

At one point, our guide had us turn off our head lamps and clasp the right shoulder of the person in front of us - forming a human chain. At this point, he then lead us (in the dark) for about 15 minutes, us sloshing through the water, him chanting in Mayan - on our way to the sacred temple. It was unbelievable. In the darkest kind of dark, where you have to touch your eyes to believe that they are really open because it’s the same dark behind your lids as it is with your eyes wide open, we silently wormed our way through the cave, invoking the spirits of a past world. Most of us felt the hairs raise up on our necks - felt the presence of more than seven of us in those caves.

Finally, we reached the massive opening where we climbed up rocks to dry land, took our shoes off, and in sock-clad feet, moved gingerly about the hundreds of ancient pottery vessels and shards, and the few human remains. Some of the pottery was still intact and set in their offering, ritualistic fashion. One of the most shocking displays was a calcite-encrusted skeleton of a woman for whom ATM (Cave of the Stone Sepulcher) is named for.

ATM was discovered in 1989, and some of the artifacts found inside date back to at least 600AD. They believe to have about 200 ceramic vessels and the skeletal remains of about 14 humans (seven of them children), all almost certainly sacrificial victims to the gods. The legend says it was probably the rain god Chac (who dwelt in caves) that the Maya people offered sacrifices to in a time when the drought was severe in the second half of the 9th century.

Our journey back out of the cave labyrinth seemed to go more quickly than the trek in. Maybe we had become experts at rock climbing, our feet finding solid ground more easily in the waist high water pools of the caves. Because, somehow, when we saw the light of day at the opening of the cave and the enchanted forest came into view, it felt like those three hours of spelunking had flown by in mere moments. We were a lot quieter on the trek back through the forest and through the rivers too - but when I looked back over my shoulder at the stragglers behind me, I saw that each of them had a huge smile on their face. Yeah - we were all thinking the same thing. Coolest. Thing. Ever.

Hurricane Matthew

He's on his way. Right now, he's just TS Matthew - Tropical Storm Matthew, off the coast of Nicaragua, and he's headed towards Belize. Apparently, after he reaches Honduras, he finds his way into Belize's warm water which makes him super happy and he decides to become a "hurricane" rather than a tropical storm. The reports say that he'll hit Belize on Sunday and will be somewhere between a Category 1 - Category 5 hurricane. How exciting!!

I feel completely safe, being so far inland, and living up on a hill, which is why I can say that this is a bit of a thrill. It's funny how the Universe works - we were meant to be going back to Caye Caulker this weekend, the island off the coast. It's a good thing we didn't because they're evacuating the islands as I write this. It's been on and off torrential tropical downpours all day - and the sky has looked somewhat ominous. We had a "hurricane meeting" and made a list of all our supplies and headed off to the local Three Flags Chinese Shop (this is where we buy groceries, etc). Batteries - check. Water - check. Mac and cheese - check. Cookies - check. We loaded up on food and essentials, and felt a bit like scavengers...the isles were packed, the energy was frenetic, and people were out en masse, all preparing for doomsday.

Walking down the giant hill into town, I noticed people boarding up windows and tying things down. In the internet cafe - it's packed, everyone sending off messages before the town's electricity will be just a wish. There's already an air of restlessness moving itself through the community - or maybe it's just in our volunteer house. Plans all had to be canceled for the weekend and the five of us are faced with, well...just the five of us. We're all hoping the television stays current until at least Sunday, because last night we already made it through Pictionary and Battle of the Sexes - not sure how many more games we can can take!

In any case - whether Matthew decides to show up in all his glory, or he passes by with just a whisper of a hello - this has been fun. It's been a new experience I've never been a part of before - something essentially tropical and completely unfathomable - until it happens. It's been nine years since the last important threat of a hurricane hit Belize. Seems like the Universe was listening when I said I wanted new adventures! New adventures for sure - and safety for all.

"I Am Belize"

Well - at least we’re the same age. Tuesday was Belize’s 29th birthday - Independence Day - and the culmination of September’s festivities. Monday night at midnight, fireworks lit up the black sky again, music jammed in the streets, Flayva’s and Faya Wada’s (the clubs) were hoppin’, and the locals were groovin’. Belizeans know how to party! Tuesday afternoon, what felt like the entire country, gathered along the narrow streets of San Ignacio and Santa Elena, to watch the procession of gaudy-wonderful floats, each blaring their own hip-hop dance club mix, creep through the city. The parade took three and a half hours and dressed in Cornerstone Foundation t-shirts, waving Belizean flags, we danced our way through the crowded streets. We sang, we danced, we threw candy, we handed out brochures, and we did the “Waka Waka” - gotta love Shakira!

It was an endless parade of floats - a sea of blue, red, and white crepe paper, balloons, and flags. I glimpsed signs that read, “Happy Birthday Belize!”, “Stand Proud, and Shout Loud - I Am Belize!” Children ran in the streets waving, their little cheeks sporting rub-on tattoos of the Belizean flag. There wasn’t a square to spare - not a single open place to stand along each street. Some people hung out of their windows and balconies, others stood on top of cars and trucks parked in front lawns, and some danced their way through the streets with us - moving from one float to the next. It was a cacophony of Belizean festivities.

Our float might not have won any prizes, but we were proud nonetheless. Streamers blew in the breeze, balloons hung from the railings, and a huge sign about our feeding program glittered in the sun. We had a lively group of women and children (with even a couple men) who brought up the rear - dance party style! I think our music was the loudest and our candy the best!

It was such a cool experience to bear witness to such an intense celebration - to a community so alive and committed to their patriotism. The energy was electric and I think that all of us volunteers felt a part of the event. We sank deeply into plastic chairs at Mr. Greedy's to share a pizza as the sun went down....so tired but happy to have pulled it all off. Cheers to Belize - happy birthday!

Pictures...

Some pictures from San Pedro, Guatemala - and then leaving to head to Belize!






Some pictures from Caye Caulker - the island off the coast of Belize...

The Storm after The Calm

The last two weeks have been what we were told to expect - full of a whole lot of nothing. That’s not entirely true - but the last couple of days, I’ve read three full novels and although I’m loving how my library keeps expanding, I’m getting restless to do something profound. Today was the day - it exploded!

In true Belizean fashion - there was no warning. This morning I met with the director of the foundation to talk about perhaps doing something internal while I waited to see what external volunteering would come my way. I walked away from the meeting with the distinct impression that I’d been ‘handled.’ Like when you pay a cab driver $50 for a trip that was meant to be $10 and they drive away with a loud “Woohoo!!!” Looks like I’m going to be re-vamping their Volunteer Program here at the foundation. I’m to create a comprehensive Volunteer Manual, stream-line the current program, paperwork and information, organize the program areas and work with the woman who does the website to change the information. It all sounded really exciting to the part of my brain that’s a neurotic, obsessive-compulsive-personality-disordered, controlling, organizing freakshow. And then...

I received a call from the local women’s shelter, Mary Open Doors, for a meeting in the afternoon. I met with the head of the board who was thrilled to have “western professionals” and it looks like they would like me to work for them in a consulting capacity. I gathered that this means I will be helping them organize and streamline their current efforts, implement new programs and build relationships with the schools for the children who are experiencing violence in the home, and provide consultation regarding specific domestic violence cases. They need assistance with everything - from establishing intake paperwork to training for their crisis counselors to providing ideas for funding and community resources. And then...

The foundation received phone calls from the Chairmen of four outlying villages around San Ignacio - to do presentations in their communities. They want parenting workshops - and as the resident psychologist, I was voted in. But thankfully, Helen got dragged into this venture too and will be headlining with me, talking about healthy relationships and domestic violence while I focus on parenting education and skills. The excitement of reaching the outer villages was buzzing in the office and before I could escape, I found myself signed up to do two more workshops here in San Ignacio for the Women’s Group on parenting as well. I got to fumble my way through Microsoft Publisher and made some rockin’ flyers - ready to send out to the villages tomorrow morning!! (I was clearly working on Western time here).

And just in case I don’t feel busy enough - I have a meeting scheduled with the president of the local hospital to work in their mental health department. She’s been waiting for me to get a copy of my degree faxed here and assumes I will be a full-time addition to their over-worked counselors. And there’s a social worker in the schools who thinks I’m going to be providing some aid in her direction to ease the burden of her 30+ caseload. Oh, and I almost forgot - there’s the lovely 18 year old who I promised to teach how to read and write.

BOOM!! That’s the sound of the storm after the calm. What a riot!! I love it....I love the energy of it - how it swirls around in bursts of exciting movement towards change and progress for both agencies and individuals in this wonderful community. I have no doubt my hands will be full - actually, I think they might even be invisible. But I’m also certain that I will be involved in projects that are sustainable and life-changing. Ready or not, here I come!

Learning to Wait...

“So the presentation will start at 1:30pm then? But really around 2:00 Belizean time right?”

That was the program manager for Cornerstone Foundation on the phone today, talking to the Chairman of one of the outlying villages (Bullet Hill Falls) about the presentation I will be doing on the 23rd of the month. Hilarious.

Belizean time is its own phenomenon here. Being here so far has been an experience in learning to wait, learning to be patient, and then waiting some more. Belizeans have this unspoken AND spoken tradition of never being on time, of meetings starting late, and of getting things done...later. And ‘later’ can mean in a few hours, a few days, or maybe never. It was something the foundation warned us about, even told us to prepare for - but how does one prepare for something so ambiguous?

It’s really hard to grasp until you’re in it - the lightbulb clicks when you’re sitting in the women’s group at 3pm thinking maybe you got the time wrong - and then the ‘early bird’ shows up at 3:25pm, saying, “Oops, I think I’m early!” (No dear, actually you’re 25 minutes late and you’re the first one here - but this is Belize!!) Making appointments with agencies in the community feels like I’m playing a game of frogger - the conversation proceeds with jerky movements, back and forth, never quite sure what the other person is proposing. - I’m really looking forward to meeting with you to discuss how I can be helpful to your agency. What time works for you? Sure, I can do 2pm. Now, do you want me to show up at 2 or at 2:30? Oh, whenever? Okay......so should we just say 2 then? Yeah sounds good, I guess I’ll just see you when I see you. Looking forward to it -

The truly hilarious thing about this cultural shift is that even if I tried my best to give up my western ways and showed up to appointments ‘late’ or on Belizean time - I’d still find myself waiting. Or if it’s raining out - maybe they’d just never show up. Or maybe I find myself meeting with someone different (that’s been fun!). It’s a bit of a circus, a no-win-perplexing-confusing-mind-boggling-hysterical adventure into the culture of Belize.

The other volunteers who’ve been here awhile look at me with a mix of sympathy and condescension - “You’ll get the hang of it eventually”....... Brilliant. I know. Now, when you say eventually....do you mean later or never?!