First Impressions

So, I write on my second day of Belizean adventures. Nothing surprising, nor grand, nor death-defying has happened, but may I give you some… First Impressions!!

The Plane Trip: My first flight went off as normal, and I was placed next to this nice elderly man. We talked on life, his consisting of visiting family in Arizona and much ado about missionary trips, and mine consisting of Graduating (woot!). To this end, he promptly switched seats to a row without passengers, actually, without even a goodbye, and began reading a small pamphlet like book. The crying baby, at long last dropped into the background and I read until touch down. Upon exiting the plane, the nice old man gave me a little cross with the words “God Loves You” on them, and wished me the best of luck.

The terminal in Atlanta was obviously obsessed with fornication, because as I walked by, I heard Four, yes Four, times the word SEX. Now, I was not eavesdropping, nor was I looking for people who might say such words. It was just that these people used their outside voices to broadcast their bedroom habits.

The second flight went off as normal, and without a hitch. Boring… So, I read, and occasionally sneaked a peek at the pretty missionary girls who were coming to poor primitive Belize. No offense or anything, I just wonder if they know that most of Belize is Christian already. Oh well.
I then arrived in Tom’s big arms upon arrival and drove to the camp.

The Camp: Well, I did not know how primitive our camp would be, nor how populated. What a shocker to find working restrooms and a group numbering in the teens! Most of these fellow comrades are ladies too, schweeeeet! But, I digress, back to the camp. I arrive with an insane scream of nature. So I use the facilities, which lack toilet paper, ok, what now. Well, I give a labored cry, and someone finds me some. Phew! Close call!

Now, most of the camp is flooded. It has rained the past five days. That makes for some slushy ground and a few tents perched on the few dry spots. There is a pavilion in which we have our meals, a community center where most of the group sleeps, and an Internet “Café”. Not much but good enough. Oh, and I share a cabin with two Canadian girls.

Sadly, we will move out tomorrow.

The People: For the most part, I really like the people. I like their accents; which are jovial and lilting. It gives you a feeling that whatever they are saying is a joke. It might very well be. I like their faces, they are always smiling and shining, or somber and contemplative. I like the customs and manners. They are always polite and willing to offer their services. Most of these services however, are money gimmicks. For instance, in the downtown, they will offer to wash your car, and supposedly, sell you crack and hash. Around here, they will attempt to sell you wooden carvings and foods. So be it. We must all make a living, and the average Belizean lives on 6,000 US dollars a year.

The Roads and Driving: The roads are hell, the driving is hell, the drivers are hell, and I am not surprised that the number one killer of Belizeans is vehicular carnage. Seriously, every mile or so, there are these things called sleeping policemen. Simply put they are unmarked speed bumps, which will bottom out cars and tear the suspension loose from anything else, they are brutal. Cruising along at 50, which is as fast as I would go, and bamf, this massive jolt, a feeling of airborne and a sickening crunch as the vehicle chassis-plants the road. Not good for anything. Oh, and potholes are as common as the sleeping policemen, except, like, times a googa-mega-billion. You slow down, and bwa bwa bwa chunk bwa bwa chunk. And let us not forget that the roads are effectively gravel with asphalt on them. Meanwhile, the suspension is dead and your tires are screaming for mercy.

The drivers are fairly chaotic, swerving in and out of traffic. They accelerate rapidly, and brake hard, causing their small, old, fairly beat up vehicles to scream and jitter, and by sheer will, they do not fall apart. Many vehicles sport large cracks in windshields and most trucks carry a few passengers on top. It is not a pedestrian culture either. Walkers are all but pushed up against the walls, and bicyclists are nearly plastered on a minutely basis.

The Food: The fare is so-so so far. Mostly consisting of beans and rice and chicken, rotated in a random combination, and without exotic taste, one could say that Belize food is not actually food. However, when all you have to eat is this mix, you do so, and proclaim it to be food. Hip Hip Hooray! I will say this though, the smells coming from the open air barbeque pits are almost enough to make a man jump from his vehicle, barely miss a berserk car, grab at the little cross given to him by a nice old guy, and stand in line, where he will be offered various small, touristy trinkets… Someday, I will feast on such food.

Until next time,

The End

Welcome!!

Welcome to the Belize Adventures. This blog is public, so anyone can read it.
I will be updating this blog as often as I can for the 3 weeks and a day that I am in the Jungles and Cities of Belize.
*Warning* Keep Kleenex on hand for emotional moments.