Oh, Belize . . .

Tags

Belize, Writer's Block, writers, writing

Whoa! Lookie-here who popped back into the world-o-blogging for a moment! Moi!

I am embarrassed to say that my last blog post was over a year ago. Where did that year go?!? Much has happened which led to the sad detriment (maybe demise is a better word) of this humble blog, as well as any writing whatsoever on my part.

The short story is . . . My folks passed away at the end of last year a mere six weeks apart and I am the trustee of their estate, our daughter in the Army deployed to Afghanistan in September (she comes stateside in 10 days!), my husband was the president of his business association last year and we logged over 16,000 miles of travel up and down California. We invested in a craft brewery. We purchased a home in Boise. We tried to keep our heads screwed on. All of that made for zippo writing time. Oh, not to mention the paralyzing avoidance of writing a query letter for my (finished!) manuscript.

For those of you who followed this blog 2+ years ago, you may remember that my husband and I vacationed in Belize, which I chronicled HERE, HERE, and HERE. It was wonderful those 2+ years ago, so what the hell, so we went again last week.

We stayed on an atoll 25 miles off the coast of Belize and the only thing on the island besides the resort is a dirt airstrip and a marine research institute. That, and crocodiles in the lagoon. Gilligan might have been in a coconut tree, but I never spotted him. No Internet, phones, or television means you can read, drink margaritas poolside, and snorkel/scuba dive your heart out . . . which we did with great abandon.

Cocktail, anyone?

However, the strangest thing happened . . .

During my 4^th or 5^th excursion snorkeling, I started composing a blog post in my head. Yes, in the middle of my snorkel! Never mind the nurse shark near my knee or the puffer fish portside, I was writing in my head!

While not brilliant, it went something like this:

If Dr. Seuss had gone scuba diving or snorkeling in Belize before writing One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, the title might have been:

One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish, Half Orange and Half Purple Fish, Silver Fish with a Yellow Tail and Racing Stripe, Black Fish with Neon Blue Polka-dots, Fish Dressed a Referee . . .

Dr. Seuss would have said, “Oh heck. Let’s just call the darn book One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish and be done with it.

Mother Nature had way too many rum punches before she designed the fish and coral of Belize. She must have whipped out her box of 64 Crayola crayons (remember those?) and went crazy. There is every size, shape, and color of fish you can imagine and I am sure Mother Nature woke up with one heck of a hangover the next day. But the result of her drinking binge is magnificent.

Writing a blog post whilst (how British of me) snorkeling is probably inadvisable given that fire coral, stingrays, sharks, lionfish and any number of other poisonous critters are close at hand.

But . . . a lovely thing happened to me while putting my life and several limbs at risk and inadvertently drinking gallons of the pristine waters of Belize . . . I started writing again.

Ahhh . . . thank you Belize.

 

Advertisements

Belize it or Not ~ Part 3

Tags

Belize, writers, writing

If you are following along, this is the third post in a series about our trip to the beautiful country of Belize. See here for a riveting post about our adventure to Mayan ruins. Here are a few final notes about our Mayan trek I feel I must leave with you.

A stone’s throw from the dock where we caught the boat is a three-acre riverfront property for sale. It boasts several outbuildings, houses, and a nice looking boat dock. The asking price is $800,000. The developer of the McAfee Anti-virus software, John McAfee, is the owner and he is motivated to sell. You would be too if you were on the run from the law for the alleged murder of your Belizean neighbor.

Spitting distance the other direction from the boat dock is a Belizean dichotomy, or maybe someone’s idea of an insensitive joke. A rehab center sits next door to a rum distillery. Really? Must one rub a poor abuser’s nose in the temptation of a midnight run next door for a rum and Coke?

On a side note, the rehab center is in need of some major rehab itself.

Remember the helpful cab driver who played our tour guide/historian? While we did the Mayan ruin tour, he apparently did a tour of the local bars and came back schnockered. On the drive back to our hotel, he drifted into on-coming traffic, passed buses with reckless abandon, and I watched him in the rearview mirror as his eyelids grew heavy and he nodded off to sleep. My husband spoke sharply to the driver and that sobered him up a bit. We made it back to the hotel safely and just in time for our own stiff drink.

On another side note, if you are tempted to climb a Mayan ruin, may I suggest you enter an Olympic training program for at least one year prior to your climb? My legs were sore for days afterward making the simple process of standing up an Olympic event.

I leave you with some Belizean signs that made me chuckle.

I like how Belizeans think.

Now why didn’t I think of that?

Excellent philosophy.

Those Belizeans are ever so polite.

Paris is a mere 4,641 mile swim from Belize.

As a teaser to what is coming up next in this adventure, here is a shot of the un-Belize-able view from our island resort. The view would be a heck of a lot better if I could figure out how to Photoshop me out of it.

Related articles

• Belize it or Not ~ Part 1 (robincoyle.wordpress.com)
• Belize It or Not ~ Part 2 (robincoyle.wordpress.com)

Belize It or Not ~ Part 2

Tags

Belize, Lamanai, Mayan Ruins, writers, writing

Part 1 of this series about our trip to Belize armed you with trivia so you can nail the “Belize It or Not” category when it pops up on Jeopardy. “I’ll take Belize It or Not for $500, Alex.”

Part 2’s fascinating installment is about our day-long trek into the wild jungles to see the ancient Lamanai Mayan ruins in northern Belize. No one told me I needed to pack a machete.

We hired a tour guide/driver to take us to the boat dock where we would then hop on a boat and go up river to the Mayan ruins. Our tour guide/driver was a wealth of information about Belize and it made the hour and a half drive pleasant, if you turned a blind eye to the evidence of poverty all around. The houses became sparse the farther we went into the countryside, but the unifying theme was laundry flapping on clotheslines in the Belizean breeze.

I have to say this. Belizeans know how to keep their whites white.

The driver pulled over to a collection of outbuildings that looked like they would collapse if you sneezed in their general direction. As it turned out, it was the put-in point for our boat ride to the ruins. I had my doubts about the wisdom of taking said trip at this point. But, a dozen or so not-insane looking people also waited to get on the boat to be sold up-river. Hey, I’m game. Or stupid. Pick one.

Our jungle port of call.

Our boat driver/Mayan ruin tour guide was charming and knowledgeable about the river’s flora and fauna. It was a tad disconcerting that the trip took us through crocodile-infested waters and under a tree canopy filled with snakes ready to pounce (can snakes pounce?) on us, bats looking batty while clinging to branches waiting for nightfall, and spider and howler monkeys up to their usual monkey business. The iguanas looked bored with the whole affair.

Do you get the feeling we are being watched?

It was like the Jungle Ride at Disneyland but the animals were real. Or like the movie African Queen. Or Apocalypse Now. Or Indiana Jones.

The Lamanai site was home to the Mayans for 2,000 years until the civilization’s collapse. There are burial pyramids, ceremonial temples, and the remnants of the royal quarters. Only a mere fraction of the site has been excavated. A Canadian dude did two major digs, but without for funding the project, most of the site is still succumbed to the jungle.

I’m not going to give you a lecture on the lost Mayan civilization. I’m no expert but I found the Mayan story fascinating. If you have a chance, look them up. They probably have a Facebook page.

Our boat driver/tour guide led us on an hour-long hike through the jungle to the various ruins and promised we could climb up the tallest one, aptly named, High Temple. Those Belizeans are so clever.

Anywho, our tour group gathered around our guide at the base of High Temple in anticipation of a few words about the pyramid. Here is what he said. “Listen up, guys. Be very careful climbing up the face of the temple. Two days ago a woman lost her balance and fell 85 feet. She was air-lifted out with multiple broken bones and it is likely she will not survive the fall.”

The arrow shows how far the woman fell.

What kind of a send-off is that!? “Enjoy the climb but don’t fall to your certain death!”

Climbing the pyramid was something my husband and I always wanted to do and we weren’t about to delete it off our bucket list while standing in the ruin’s shadow.

It is hard to tell from the picture, but the side of the pyramid is precariously steep. They installed a rope to hang on to for dear life while scrambling up the side. While the steps look innocent enough, they are high and it is like doing vertical lunges while clinging to a flimsy rope.

We made it to the top but my knees were shaking from the exertion as well as paralyzing fear. The top of the pyramid was too damn high for my liking and all I could think about was the poor woman who fell. I also swear a Mayan ghost was considering pushing me off the pyramid as a sacrifice to one of his virgin-loving gods. Then he realized I was the mother of three and backed off.

Those aren’t ants on the ground. Those are people.

I am haunted by the fate of the woman who fell and will let you know if I hear how she is doing. The tour guide fears the Belizean government will shut down the site or no longer allow tourists to climb the pyramids. Frankly, I am surprised you are allowed to even touch the pyramids. I guess they figure they have lasted this long, they ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.

No, that is not a self-portrait of me carved in stone.

Belize It or Not ~ Part 1

Tags

Belize, Belize City, writers, writing

My husband and I have been on a treadmill set at warp speed over the past year or more. Most of the life-workout has been wonderful and I’m not complaining . . . travel, family, adventure, etc. Some parts were not so good . . . failing parents, the death of my uncle after his slow decline, and the sound of my writing coming to a screeching halt.

We needed a time out. Big time.

When we vacation, we usually cram every minute visiting landmarks and museums, walking our feet off, and savoring local food. We collapse at the end of the day and hit repeat the following morning. We aren’t sit-on-the-beach-and-contemplate-our-navels kind of people.

After red-lining life for so long, we were in the mood for a vacation that included rum drinks with umbrellas in them, sandy beaches, sea breezes, and limited Internet.

We considered Hawaii or Mexico, but while doing research on tropical destinations, I came across a resort situated on an atoll 25 miles off the coast of Belize. For those of you who are geographically challenged, Belize is on the east coast of Central America with Mexico to the north and Guatemala to the west and south.

Caribbean paradise. Photo credit: Wikipedia

The sole resort on our vacation island boasts 18 private cabanas on a blindingly white beach, no television, radio, or paved roads, three meals provided daily, and world-class snorkeling and SCUBA diving out the front door. Think Gilligan’s Island with Internet access only available in the Skipper’s hut.

Over the next few posts, I will do my best to not bore you with an endless slide show of the hundreds of pictures we took while in Belize. But first, not knowing a damn thing about the country of Belize, I did due diligence research (what did we do before the Internet?) and read some things that made me scratch my head.  Did any of you guys know this stuff?

Belize’s barrier reef is second only in size to Australia’s Great Barrier Reef. Who knew?

Mr. Wick E. Pedia casually mentions that chewing gum was invented in Belize. Listen, buddy, you can’t drop that bombshell and not give us more details about the who, what, when, where, and how Belize came to be the birthplace of Bazooka Bubblegum.

Belize City, the largest city in Belize, is little more than a slum. Actually, calling it a slum is an insult to the word slum. It is a pit. The ramshackle houses look abandoned until you notice the fresh laundry hanging on the line. Dozens of buildings are mere shells. Vacant lots are strewn with garbage and worse. Dental work appears to be an unheard of luxury. The abject poverty is sobering. Fortunately, we were only in Belize City for one night before heading to our island paradise.

In stark contrast to the poverty, the literacy rate is 77%. Local churches run the schools and the kids wear immaculate uniforms unique to their particular school. Belizeans may not have money for dental work, but they take a great deal of pride in their educational system and starched uniforms.

A large population of Mennonite farmers settled in Belize because the government granted them freedom from religious persecution and exemption from military conscription. The Mennonites are the nation’s farmers, producing goods for the general population as well as for export. They pretty much stick to their farms, but we saw a few couples shopping at the pharmacy in Belize City. It was like the cast members from the movie The Witness made a wrong turn and landed in a ghetto.

The country is rich in Mayan ruins dating back as early as 900 B.C.  Archeologists estimate that at its peak, the Mayan population was one million. Keep in mind there are only 334,000 people living in Belize today. More on the Mayan ruins in a future post.

They may be poor, but the Belizean pride in their heritage, culture, and the country’s beautiful landscape is apparent. One last thing . . . Belizeans are warm and welcoming souls. Even with teeth in dire need of orthodontia, they have the most beautiful smiles.

As a preview to future posts about our trip, here is a teaser photo of the view from our cabana.

Who needs Internet when you have this . . .