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.