A Perfect Sunday

Danny and Jeff performing in Aguacate

Maybe I wont come back to the USA. Maybe I’ll just stay here in Belize for awhile more, putting off the stress and fast-paced lifestyle that I left behind some 20 months ago.

Probably not, but a day like this past Sunday makes thoughts like that one seem almost possible. Perfect days of relaxation, friends, warm sun, and sudden rain storms. Laying in a hammock under a thatch roof, eating a freshly baked cookie while two of my friends attempt a guitar duo, I look past the wide porch onto the green hills of a neighboring village. I figured I had earned a cookie after riding my rickety pink bike 4 miles from my home just to say hello to another Peace Corps Volunteer. My stomach was still full from the heavy bowl of spicy pork and corn dumplings that I had enjoyed at a wedding. The wedding was dying down and it not quite noon, so a bike ride on an overcast day provided a plan for the remainder of the afternoon.

In Aguacate after 35 minutes of easy peddling, Danny was surprised to see the Blue Creek volunteers lounging on his porch when he arrived back from making a call at the village phone. He canceled his spear-fishing plans to play some guitar and share the news of his village and hear the news that we brought with us. A carpenter by trade, Danny had spent his first months in his village constructing one of the most beautiful thatch houses I have ever seen. Varnished wood floors, built-in shelves, and double french doors that open on to a wide porch make for a pleasant retreat from my own small dorm. Before the guys started in on their guitars, we put together some oatmeal cookie mix, adding peanut butter for a special treat. I took up residence in the hammock while the guys perched on the steps, moving between acoustic renditions of Bon Jovi and Sublime, stopping only for another cookie. Before long I had dozed off and a rain-storm had moved into the valley. Rain came down in sheets and the guys had to move the jam session indoors, interrupting my nap. I forgave them and had another cookie.

The rain didn’t last long, and soon it was time for the Blue Creek contingent to return to their own village, leaving Aguacate, Danny, and his beautiful home behind. The road had become muddy in the rain, but that didn’t matter too much since I had a warm shower and clean clothes awaiting me. On the ride back the conversation floated between religion, politics, and the things we can’t wait for when we get done. But all of that is too distant to make a real impact on the day, leaving only a lingering impression of what awaits us back in our respective home states. Sunday had almost come to an end and as I washed the mud off in my outdoor shower I was overcome with a tinge of regret and sadness, that days like the one I had just lived were numbered and few. While I will surely enjoy my Sunday routine of the paper, coffee, and friends back home, a day of wedding feasts, jungle bike rides, and downpours under a thatch roof are something that can not be duplicated and must be cherished.