Belize city street comedy

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Doing most of my travels in Asia, I didn't expect at all to get out of a bus in Belize City, without getting loitered by hundreds of Taxi drivers and ferry-ticket sellers. But no one seemed to be interested in our arrival on this colourful painted wooden Bus terminal. “Its not supposed to cost more than five US for a taxi to the harbour” our Israelian mate Ian says. I nod “allright” not feeling like bargaining at 7 am, after a night in a Bus and a border crossing full of negotiations with Mexican customs at 5 in the morning. We were all sure that they cant charge us 30 US to get out of the country, but well, they could. At least the Belizians didn't charge us any money to get into theirs, but did take away most of our fruits we wanted to bring from Mexico to the pretty expensive Islands.



The four of us, Ian and his girlfriend Michelle, Tami and me, are shouldering our backpacks and walking towards the Exit of the Bus station. A black Taxi driver with fake Ray Bans Pilot shades and a captains hat like skippers wear them finally asks us for a ride...

”Welcome to Belize! U need a cab? Taxi?” He speaks with a strong creole accent which sounds a bit like the Jamaican Patois.

“To the harbour” I say “How much?”

“2 fifty US brother, per person”

“Its not far” Ian says “around 800m. How come I read in the Internet its cheaper?”

“Thats cause Im a professional cap driver me bro” I start laughing.”Ah ur a professional” He laughs with me.

“Ok all four of you five US, that's the deal of a lifetime bro” he says. We agree and he pulls up the car, a dodgy limousine which surely has seen some better days. “Pieca of shit car “ he says while he is trying to fit all these bags in the tiny trunk “Falls into pieces” “I thought your a professional cab driver “ I joke “I am, the car is not” He smiles.

A homeless bloke, obviously a little bit confused shouts in the background: “No one goes to church anymore. Its Sunday and no one is in church”

“You go to church!” our taxi driver shouts back “how come ur not in church?” He picks up a piece of rope from the dirt and tries to tie the boot down.



Ian left to the market to exchange some money and buy a replacement for the confiscated fruits, the girls and me are enjoying the show.

“Oh hey baby” our Cabdriver talks to a big black guy that just walks past and smiles “thanks for last night” “U gay motherfucker” is all this guy yells back.

Meanwhile another bloke with Dreadlocks, incredible dirty clothes and his pants almost all the way down stands right next to me and puts a big smile on. “How are you?” I ask, trying to figure out what he wants. “Thats my brother man, he smokes way to much weed” the Cab driver says, turning around to him asking “How much money you spend on weed, man, U spend more money on weed than food man its no good maaan, Do you eat at all?” His brother just smiles and Nods. “See man he smoked himself retarded” he says turning back to me.



An old bloke without teeth shows up wearing a way to big jacket mumbling something. Everyone ignores him so we do as well.



“Alright I need a coffee me” The Cabdriver says. The Old bloke mumbles again something, I have a hard time even hearing him. “ No Man come on I cant buy u a coffee everyday, I bought you one yesterday” he yells back at him. “I bought u one yesterday, Im gonna buy you one tomorrow, cant buy u one everyday man” he says and heads off to get a coffee. The old man mumbles.

I start laughing over this random situation.

The brother of the Cabdriver finally joins the conversation: “I was born in Canada!” probably assuming we are Canadians. “Nice, were about in Canada?” I ask. “Jamaica” he answers. I don't answer, he does “ See man I'm here for so long I don't even know if I'm born in Jamaica or in Canada” He smiles from one ear to the other. “U got a smoke for me brother?” I give him one. “Nobodys goin to church nomore motherfucker” the scary looking bum shouts behind me. “mbmbmbmbmmbcoffee”the old man mumbles.

“U go to Church U sick bastard, what kind of language U think ur using man, u go to church man u need absolution” Mr Cabdriver is back on the scene in his hands a cup of steaming coffee and a donut. “ I go to church for my funeral” He yells over to the bum. And to me: “U know man I see my workmates more than I see my girl, so when I see my girl I like to give her a good time, understand? I like to drink I like to smoke and excuse my language ladys, I like to fuck. So no church for me” “Thats only human,we all do” I say, almost in tears laughing.



Finally Ian comes back with a big bag full of onions,bananas and tomatoes and we pack ourselves in the rusty but trusty limousine to drive to the harbour and leave this bizarre bunch of individuals,hat gave us such a street comedy, behind us. The whole way the cabdriver spends drinking his coffee, both hands off the wheel, taking about his old job as a truck-driver and how much better his new Job is.



A little bit later we are sitting on the little speed boat leaving the mainland, not without bumping the boat into another in the little harbour. I am sitting in the back, looking at Caribbean mangrove islands passing by, thinking about how I already like this place.

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