A Guilty Pleasure

I can honestly say that I enjoy tortillas, both flour and corn varieties, and have even made the effort to learn the art of making them.  If I do say so, I am not too bad at it either.  I am also a fan of beans: stewed, fried, and refried.  But there comes a time in every person's life when the tortilla-bean combo reaches the point of maximum utility, where no more pleasure can be obtained from this simple meal.  This point came tonight.  My family here in Blue Creek spoils me, they really do, and this particular evening I was served a couple of tasty pieces of fried chicken (which I discretely nibbled and fed to the animals due to the parasite that has taken over my intestines) along with tortillas, of the flour variety.  As I looked at that familiar source of carbs, I remembered when I used to relish this piece of flat bread when covered with peanut butter and honey.  Oh, but I have peanut butter and honey in my room, I conspired.  How, I thought, do I get this warm tortilla away from the table and into my room where I can secretly smother it in gooey peanuty sweetness?  The perfect opportunity came when my siblings went outside to greet a visitor and I hastily stuffed the tortilla under my shirt and walked casually, holding my stomach as one does when one is "stuffed" and walked back to my hut.  There I used the handle of my borrowed spoon to cover my stolen tortilla with my stashed spread.  Man, what goodness.  I sat in my hammock, licking honey off my fingers as I enjoyed my dinner, a little bit guiltily, knowing that what I had just done would have required too much explanation to make asking simply for the tortilla worthwhile. 

UPDATE: Since I wrote this account, they (being my host family) "discovered" my peanut butter stash.  I am not sure how they did this, I suspect hidden cameras, but they did.  I only discovered this in the morning, when they suggested I could use some of my peanut butter on my fry jacks.  I was a little paranoid, but I have already come to accept my total lack of privacy and have moved on with life.

March of the Ants

There are just some things that you cannot mentally prepare for when living in the jungle.  I was ready for bathing in the river, cooking over a kamal, taking malaria pills and sleeping under a net - but I was not prepared for the Marching Ants.  Saturday afternoon my brother Nester came to me and said, "Shella, the ants are blocking my way into the house."  Well Nester, can't you just brush them aside.  "No Shella, there are too many."  Well, this house that he speaks of is also the house that houses me and all of my worldly possessions, so I thought that this ant problem was worth a look.  I glanced over at his entrance, and sure enough there were tons of ants.  I opened my door, but did not see any in my room.  No problem, they didn't come inside.  I went about the afternoon and when I went back in to grab something, my room had been invaded. They were everywhere!  Marching up and down my walls, over my mosquito net, into my backpack - it was a nightmare!  The worst part was that they were chasing roaches all over the place and carrying the bodies of large insects along their line.  Great, not just ants, but killer ones. 

I didn't know what to do, so I grabbed my bike and raced over to Ms. Ophelia's, the women who I work with in Blue Creek and the owner of the "one stop shop."  She must have some ant killer, I thought.  I raced up her steps and started telling her about my problem.  Oh, she said, I have ant spray, but that wont help, they will just stay until they are done cleaning up.  She explained that they just keep going, cleaning up dead insects and chasing out roaches.  So I went back and surveyed.  There they were, in all of my things, going about their business and there was nothing I could do about it.  So I waited.  I went to the main house, went to river and bathed, ate dinner, and waited.  Sure enough, sometime before I went to bed, they disappeared.  Not one to be found.  They had moved on to some other house to do their cleaning, and all I had to show for their visit were two wicked bites on my foot where I had accidentally crossed their path. 

Just a lesson in patience from the bush.

Moving Day

By some freak of nature that I will not question, I am getting internet in my hut right now.

I write this from my little Mac, which is on a table in a room halfway between Punta Gorda and Guatemala.  Yesterday I arrived home and for the first time in 2 plus months unpacked my bag.  I put maps on the walls and set up some pictures.  I look out the window at jungle and a crystal clear turquoise river.  Things from now move slow, so all I can do is be patient and breath.

Thursday left Belize City and said goodbye to all of my companions of the first month and a half. When looking at a map of Belize, Toledo is the farthest district south and has the fewest roads, but the map cannot do justice to the actual distance and isolation that is Toledo.  By bus, it is 5-7 hours from Belize City to Punta Gorda and another hour to Blue Creek and three hours to Dolores. I should introduce my support system, the small group of people who live with me in what we have termed "The Toledo Cluster-f**k." 

* Jeff Frank – Fellow Blue creek volunteer and a heck of a guy.  Hails from Maine and writes like nobody's business.
* Nessim – Surfer from San Diego who will be our volunteer in PG and always speaks the truth.
* Mary Beth Carey (MBC) – Former Miss Teen Knoxville and the only female in this part of the country.  She is going to rock it out in Otoxjà (Oat-a-sha).
* Matty Whipshaw – Punk rocker/ long boarder who somehow ended up in San Lucas, Toledo.  His mission is to keep myself and MBC in check and entertained.
* Nick Choppy – Has the distinction of being the most remote volunteer out there in Dolores.
* Graham – Goes by just one name and has the best Tom Seleck mustache and Boston accent.  Will soon be known as the white guy on a horse in Jalacte. 
* Michael Norbeck – Of Chicago/MN, most commonly known as Fidel thanks to his hat and facial hair combo.  He's setting up shop in Big Falls, where the Southern highway becomes paved again.

So our group of 5 (3 are bound for Guatemala, bastards) loaded up all of possessions into the James Express Bus bound for Punta Gorda yesterday.  It was the first time any of us had used public transportation to move.  The ride was fine in the air-conditioned coach bus, made even more enjoyable by the tunes chosen by the driver, including the entire Celine Dion "A New Day" album.  Amy Johnson, you'll be happy to hear that he even repeated the song A New Day twice, I couldn't help but think of the time that the Tre Jenter sang that song in front of a few dozen incoming freshman as a way of stalling.

So this is getting long and I need to let my computer rest and go bath in the river.  I'll soon include pictures from the swearing in party and maybe more from my little village. 

I swear

To defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic...yadi yadi yadi.  Today is the day, 4.5 hours to go.  I already signed the piece of paper that says that I choose to be a volunteer and am ready to make this commitment.  Is this what marriage is like.  If so, I can totally relate to the cold feet. Pictures will soon come from tonight's debauchery, but I may not be able to post them for awhile because tomorrow I am in transit to my new home (slight pit in stomach there).  Til then.

Updates on my website

Greetings,

 

Back in Belize City for a few final days.  I have updated my mailing address under the Contact Me section as well as put some information on my job in Blue Creek.  Swearing in is on Wednesday, and then I am a real volunteer and will return to my village to live my life.  I wont deny that I am scared, who wouldn't be, but I think I am ready. 

Life in the Village

Well - I saw my village and spent my first two nights there.  It is amazingly beautiful there and the people are open and friendly.  I have put up a couple of pictures of my trip to San Pedro and my new home.  It is one room in a board house, the other room is shared by 4 of my host siblings.  The main house, a thatch roof home, is where the kitchen is and my parents sleep.  Ms. Benita is very kind and cooks excellent corn tortillas.  I have even managed to make a few that are round enough to puff up when they cook, which is how you know that they are done.  I still have to work on my griddle technique, since it is all done with a bare hand and my poor American fingers are a little sensitive to the heat.  I will live with the family for 3 months and then I will most likely look around the village for a house of my own.  The village has electricity, so I might even be able to acquire a hot pot and a toaster oven.  I am now on my way back to Belize City, with tonight in PG (Punta Gorda).  This a great little town and I hope that everyone who comes to visit is able to make it down here.  Thanks for all your love and support and I will send more news soon. 

Back from the Island

A weekend in San Pedro - all for the price of a water taxi.  Somehow I lucked out and was able to get a place to crash my head, along with 15 other volunteers on one of Belize's top tourist destinations.  Just watch out for the golf carts.  Many people will tell you, and agree with them, that it is more dangerous to be a pedestrian in San Pedro, the land of a 1000 golf carts, than in Belize City.  Something about jacked up 4-wheel drive carts with no speed limits that is really freaky and out of control. Now I am back in Belize City, feeling safe and thoroughly sunburnt.  6 weeks in country and my stomach and back saw sun for the first time yesterday.  Now I am possess a sweet tan and look like I have actually been living in the tropics. 

Tomorrow I catch the 5:30am express bus to PG (Punta Gorda) and see for the first time my village of Blue Creek and my new home.  I hear from several reputable sources that it is a great village que es muy bonita.  So look forward to a couple of beach pictures as well as some from the lovely Blue Creek, Toledo.

A week on the road

Technical Training: 8 days worth of mad traveling and mad PRA tools.  For everyone besides maybe 5 that are reading this and don't know what PRA (aka ABCD or PACA), it is the main modis operandi of the Peace Corps.  It stands for Participatory Rural Analysis and can refer to any one of a million ways to learn about a community or help them to understand their own assets and priorities when it comes to development. We were working in the village of Indian Church with a current volunteer, Greg.  He taught us how to work with small groups at the village level on how to prioritize and work better together.  It was really really great, and did I mention that this entire 4 days worth of PRA was done in Spanish?  Yeah, and I did surprisingly well.

 

Other things that have been great about training:

• Sitting on top of the ruin at Lamanai watching the sunset, viewing a pair of nesting Toucans and listening to the eerie growth of howler monkeys. (see pics)
• Doing the "human knot" ice breaker with a group of Spanish-speaking artisans.
• Taking a refreshing post-run shower by the light of headlamp.
• Placencia peninsula: the road leaves something to be desired, but it is beautiful.  It is a sad example, however, of mangroves being destroyed for the sake of million dollar resorts. 
• The best ice cream in Belize - The Tutti Frutti Gelataria in Placencia.  If you are thinking of going there now, too bad.  The owners just left for Italy and France for 3 months in order to think up new and wonderful flavors. 
• Swimming in the lagoon at Indian Church and in the Ocean at Placencia - finally I get to wear a swimsuit (first time in 5 weeks, I kid not).

And the adventure continues.  We have been traveling with 4 artisans from Greg's village as they seek markets for their crafts.  We have been seeing lots of nice resorts while sleeping on the floors of current Peace Corps volunteers.  Tonight we crash in Belmopan and tomorrow end in Belize City.  Friday I take off for San Pedro on Ambergis Caye to hang out at the Costa Maya festival with a group of current volunteers.  Not a bad deal since housing is free and I get to work the festival.  After that it is down to Toledo and my first peek at my village.  5 weeks in and it is still one big adventure.  Love and miss you all.