My First Day June 19, 2011

Taken from my camera phone #android

I got picked up in an “authentic Belizean family car”…an 87 4-door Subaru with two broken doors, and a broken steering column that allowed you to turn the car on and off while it was in motion. It took about an hour and a half to drive from Belize City, where the airport is to the town of San Ignacio, a quaint community of homes in various stages of completion built by their owners. On the way, we stopped at an outdoor market that was closing up for the day, but I had the chance to smell the amazing produce tropical places are known for. I was once told that you can’t smell anything in the produce section when you go to a grocery store…but an outdoor market!!?? The smells themselves were almost tangible. I saw a green onion the size of the entire length of my arm and avocados the size of both my fists put together. Flies were everywhere though, which I noted would be unsanitary in the States, but at the market, seemed commonplace. I guess in a tropical region, flying insects (even flies) are just as much part of the culture as the greenery.

At the market, a man pulled up on a moped/motocycle with two small girls—one seated in his lap and one holding on from the back. No one had on a helmet. My first inclination was to say something, but I have to learn a little bit more about Belizean rules, policies and such to start chastising people. That’s that haughty American thing I’m trying to lose while I’m here.

View from the veranda

My accommodations were nothing like I expected…in a good way! My view is a-friggin-mazing, overlooking all of the countryside. I have a private room about the size of my own at home with my own bathroom!! I have a full size bed, a desk and two chairs. My plan tomorrow is to go out and buy some rugs because the floor is made with vinyl tiles and maybe a couple of pillows because the chairs are made of wood.

My street

Adma, my homestay mother fixed a traditional Belizean dinner of rice, beans and chicken and a side of cucumbers.

Adma’s oldest son walked me to the corner store to get some ice cream. We were soon joined by four of his barefoot compadres, one of whom began speaking in Kriol about stealing from his father. Anyone who knows me knows I couldn’t resist.

Me (In Dessaree's voice): “Who are you stealing from?”

Kid: “Huh?” “

Me: “I heard you. You said you’re stealing.”

Kid: “Yes, I steal the money from my father and give it to my mother because he drinks all the money up.”

The other children join in, affirming his story. One kid asks me, “you know what that means? Drinking all the money up?” I nod, a little unsure about how to treat this study in morality. I decide not to say anything…instead, I bought all five kids chips from the store.  I went to the fancy Mexican restaurant across the street and bought ice cream and one taco. Cost me 4.95 BZ—Approximately 2.50 USD. How great is that!!??