Catch Up

Belize has two seasons. The first consists of skyrocketing temperatures and little relief, such as rain. The second consists of high intensity rain showers appearing as if at random, dumping the contents of the Gulf of Mexico on our heads, and then fleeing. This, of course, is an excellent mosquito breeder. Oh, and of course, that leads me to my proclamation that the second season sucks.



When I wrote the first blog, I had been confused as to our coordinates. We had been staying at the Community Baboon Sanctuary (CBS, Breaking News, Russ Mitchel, among other things) and I had believed that the group I was with were actually hard laborers, ready to go wreck havoc to insert the Jaguar Cameras. As it turns out, they were a student group that Tom and Marcella were teaching. Silly me. I was just tagging along until T and M headed to Las Cuevas, the real research station (http://www.mayaforest.com/) So, after two nights at CBS, the student group, including me, headed to Crooked Tree Lodge. There, I pitched a tent, while the rest of the group slept in Cabanas. Don't get me wrong though, that little resort was a paradiso. The air was clean, the eastern wind ruffled the skin, brushed the hair, and most importantly, meant no mosquitos! The hosts, Angie (a Crooked Tree native) and Mic (a British Army pilot who is about to become an ex-British Army pilot after serving for 22 years), along with their two really cute kids, Cory and Zach, provided delicous meals. We were so glad to have salads, let me tell you, and there was roast beef and fried rice... sausages... pancakes... fry jacks (really delicous fried bread things)... and, it was all good.



Crooked Tree itself is a kind of oddity. It is surrounded by a lagoon. During the so called wet season, the lagoon fills up and turns the village into an island, which can only be accesed by the Causeway, a long strip of built up dirt that was form fitted into a road. In fact, the wet season also turns the lagoon into excellent swimming, free of all major predators such as crocodiles or predatory fish, which can haunt other Belizean rivers and lakes. When the dry season rolls around, the lagoon drys up and the causeway is accompanied by the grassway. The locals grab fish that have suddenly lost their only source of life, and the feasting begins. The town itself is comprised of several wooden buildings painted various bright gaudy colors, with two main restraunts, one old post office, two restraunts, a general store, variuos resorts, and one Audubon Society.

The main attraction of Crooked Tree is the vast collection of bird species and other wildlife, as well as its proximity to Mayan Ruins. As a pseudo-member of the student group, I was invited to go on an early morning bird watch. And of course, I said yes. Waking up at 5:55 (the alarm was covered by a pair of my stinky pants and thusly did not wake me up) and blearly putting in contacts, followed by pushing myself into a waiting van and heading to Birds Eye View Lodge was all done with considerable sleepiness. However, once we stepped into the dinghy and the motor roared to life, the fog of sleep disappeared. The first thing we came across was a green iguana, which was actually grey due to a lack of nearby mates, which was followed by another green iguana, then, um, another green iguana, and, well, another, and another... In fact, the only thing we saw for the first 20 minutes or so was Iguanas and a handful of birds. But suddenly, the hidden avian world was revealed.

Over the course of the next two and a half hours, we were beset by colorful jacanas with feet big enough to walk on the water lilies, Roseate Spoonbills with white plumage, Vermillion Flycathers with bright red plumage, and small enough to hold in one hand, even a rare lesser yellow-headed vulture. We also got to see the Stripped Basilisk, also known as the Jesus Christ Lizard because it can run so fast as to stay on top of the water for short periods of time. At about three hours into the tour though, it began to rain. Actually, let me rephrase this. It dumped-water/hit-us-with-spray-gun/blasted-with-wind/drenched-us-to-the-bone. We were soaked on that little boat and the tour was not over yet!

Our captain manoevered the boatclose to a landing, but not close enough to jump onto dry land. The rest of the passengers and I disembarked and waded up to a small grassy spot where we feasted our eyes on... Old ruins... Of unknown nature... but kinda resembled an archaelogist camp. We turned to our left and moved into the jungle. About a hundred feet in, we came upon two small hillocks. Our guide said that there, before us were the ancient Mayan ruins. Incredibly, I believed him, despite the fact that the things in front of us resembled hills, complete with trees, mud, and gravel like rocks. Not exactly Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull, but it would do. I scrambled to the top, ahead of the group and stood there. My bare chest (I had taken my shirt off to keep it, of all things, dry) lay open to the wind and rain, the mud of my upward scramble splayed across my body, and the rest of the world below me seemed small and remote. I realized it must have been an incredible view. The others crowded around me as the summited the peak, and we lined up for a group photo. Our guide explained that this hill and the one next to it had been part of a trade center. Coolio.

The rain, of course, stopped just as we got back into the boats and headed back for a long awaited breakfast. We had seen over 30 different species of birds, not to mention various reptiles and fish. I am thinking... BEST MORNING YET!!