Up Blue Creek without a paddle, and loving it.

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This is a little awkward - let me try to explain why. You see, for you - whoever still reads this blog - you are just sitting down to read this blog post for the first time. But for me, it is not my first time writing it. I've already written this blog post, but it didn't contain this self-referential post-modern introduction/disclaimer. I wrote a very long blog post a couple days ago about Belize, Punta Gorda, and Blue Creek and lost the entire thing when I hit save. So I'll try to reproduce it in all its original glory but I can't promise that because it was quite glorious the first time and I'll never get that back. Onwards and upwards.

We felt almost immediately the difference between Guatemala and Belize. In some country crossings you don't - sometimes the sameness of the two places accentuates the arbitrariness of the border lines, usually set by colonial invaders and not by distinct tribes or peoples. In this case, the border WAS set by the colonial invaders but the differences between the countries do not feel minor at all. There are surface differences that are immediate - everyone speaks English in Belize, which is nice for us. While our Spanish has improved and we can for the most part understand others and make ourselves understood, this is entirely different from being able to actually converse with a Belizean. The currency is also different in a few ways - they use Belizean dollars which are valued much higher than the Guatemalan Quetzal: 2BZ = 1USD = 8Q. Learning the exchange rate doesn't exactly tell you how expensive things are here - which is cheaper than in the US still but quite a bit more expensive than in Guatemala. Another strange thing is that the BZ dollar is pinned to the US dollar and as a result, people freely use US dollars as currency here, but for twice the value written on the bill. So if a coke is 5BZ, you can pay with a five dollar belizean bill or a 1BZ bill and 2 USD dollar bills. Its not common outside of the tourist areas but I've haven't seen that anywhere else in the world except for I think Ecuador, where they've pinned their currency to the USD exactly 1:1.

The other difference we noticed as we spent more time in Belize is that the 'vibe', to borrow the word from San Pedro (a joke for our frequent readers), is much more laid back and friendly. People are warmer here and I feel slightly less likely to be completely lied to and ripped off here (though in reality it happens here as it does anywhere to tourists). This might be a product of the language, feeling more clear about prices and being able to ask questions more easily, etc - but there is something about the culture of Belize (and, quite possibly, the correlation between increased value of their currency and increased happiness (and decreased crime?) is not a coincidence at all).

Enough of my quite-possibly-offensive cultural analysis and back to our travels. Punta Gorda is a small dusty town with surprising local character - many travelers arrive through immigration and get right on the bus to elsewhere but we actually stayed a couple days and liked it. The price increase from Guatemala did take some getting used to but we found a room at St. Charles Inn for cheap enough and set about establishing our local hang out - which we do in many places (El Cuartito in Xela, Fifth Dimension in San Pedro, Hotel Backpackers in Rio Dulce, etc). Our favorite spot in PG (common nickname for Punta Gorda) was the Driftwood Cafe. Run by an American transplant named Jill, the food here is good, the prices are pretty good and the vibe is great. The food is cooked with love and the kitchen is small, so its not the top choice for a quick meal but the dishes are locally sourced (some home grown ingredients, I think), healthy, vegetarian-friendly, and delicious. Jill's partner (husband?) is Emmeth Young - a Belizean born and raised Kriol drummer. Emmeth runs a drumming center where he teaches young boys from the area the art of drumming (including how to make drums) as part of his 'Drums Not Guns' program to deal with violence among youth in Belize. His center also does drum lessons and drum making workshops for tourists - I signed up for a drum lesson for the next day when we were there - so more on that in a minute.

The day we arrived we made friends with a Lithuanian couple on the side of the road and learned that they wanted to do a village homestay the next day. We asked to join them and they said yes - they had found someone to drive us out (because the busses don't run on Sundays) to Blue Creek, a small village about an hour away. The next day, after breakfast at Jills, we waited outside our hotel and got to know our new friends - Linus and Irma - before the truck arrived to pick us up. An hour or so later we pulled up to Blue Creek - a charming village with a population of 450 people, according to the sign. We were pointed to Ignacio's house, near the road entering the village (for future visitors, Ignacio's house has a Maya graphic painted out front with his name in the middle of it). We spoke with his son/father/brother (?) Florentio. Florentio was busy but gave us the names of two families who frequently host tourists in their homes and found a young boy to bring us to their homes in the village. First we went to Osabio and dropped off Linus and Irma there. Next we went to Heraldo, Osabio's brother and nearby neighbor, where we would stay. Heraldo was a really nice man who welcomed us quickly into his home. He introduced us to his wife Elizabeth and whoever was around of their 10 children. Their kids were adorable and excited to meet us.

Heraldos house consisted of a couple different buildings, all thatched roof and wood sidings and divided inside by wood or some sort of particle board into separate rooms. We only really got to see the main building, which included the kitchen area, a common area and a storage room. As far as we could tell, everyone sleeps in hammocks - a local custom that we would partake in that evening (although not without regrets the next morning). The kitchens are a strange combination of traditional with hints of modern equipment - this kitchen had a traditional wood-fire clay/cement stove on the floor and a gas stove/oven combo (that she did not use). The house had electricity but if I had to guess, it was added recently and the house seemed set up to work with out it. There was a refrigerator that I don't think was in use and a surprisingly large sound system that was most definitely in use for light musicin the evening and news in the morning. I wasn't sure what Heraldo's usual job was although tourism and tour guiding might be his main profession - he proudly displayed his official tourism certification and ID tag. We soon met and got to know Lazarus, who is 25ish years old and is in college studying tourism or something related to tourism. He took us on a short walk around the village and he was certainly very knowledgeable and was able to explain things very clearly to us. We learned about all sorts of things - village history, cultural practices, language, plants and agriculture, etc. The people are Maya and speak a dialect of Maya called Mopan. We learned that there are many many dialects of Maya all over and they can communicate with nearby tribes easily but not at all with faraway dialects of Maya.

We joined our Lithuanian friends for lunch at Osabios - which was a simple and delicious (and vegetarian, without our asking): rice, fried egg, and a locally common green corn-based dish that was really good. After lunch Heraldo took the four of us on a walk and tour of the locally famous Hokab Ha' Cave. Hokab is Maya Mopan for 'coming out' and 'Ha' means water - deep inside the cave is the source for the blue creek after which the village is named. The hike along the creek/river was really beautiful and both Heraldo and Lazarus shared with us many interested things about the plants and animals as we walked. We learned, for example, about the Gumbolimbo tree - jokingly called the tourist tree because, like the tourists, it turns red in the sun and its skin goes flaky and peels off. I told them it should be called the Gumbogringo tree and they laughed a lot - I say this with pride because it is not always easy to pull of a cross-cultural-multi-lingual joke. Sara and I had a good laungh at this tree but it was not us who would have the last laugh on the matter (dun dun dun… stay tuned for the follow up on this one).

We arrived to the mouth of the cave, it was surprisingly large - it was also completely filled with water. It was then that we learned that the plan is to get into the water with headlamps and swim into the cave. Never quite prepared, Sara and I were brave and went in in our clothing - although one of us (I won't say which) required a bit of coercing to overcome how chilly the water was. But that person succumbed to peer pressure and we swam with Lazarus into the cave - he explained about some of the history of the cave, that Mayas had used this cave to hide many years ago from their enemies (admittedly, not their bravest moment - but you don't live outlive colonial invasions and foreign empires by picking every fight). The cave system was 2 miles long but we didn't swim more than a couple hundred meters at most - far enough in to shut off our headlamps momentarily and experience the intensity of complete and total darkness, something tough to find even in our rural hometown of Millerton.

After returning to our 'home' and changing into dry clothing, we had some down time before dinner. We sat outside and I couldn't help but join in with the children's volleyball game - which was a lot of fun but not exactly a shining example of North American sports skills. The volleyball game turned into a football (soccer for all you north americans) game and I did slightly better there. Although it was not really a compliment that Heraldo Jr (16 yrs) suggested that fair teams would be him against me and the two younger kids.

Later we had a dinner of rice, some potato-like vegetable and a chicken-soup-ish dish that was also really good. After dinner, the family went off to church (it was a Sunday) - the village of Blue Creek, with its population of 450, has no less than five different churches (and zero synagogues, sorry mom). Heraldo did politely offer that we could attend to join in worship of god (I think implying that it was not a 'cultural experience' for tourists) and we politely declined. Heraldo Jr stayed behind with us - I asked him if he was only staying behind for us and if he usually went to church and he said that he did usually go but sometimes he just did not feel like going and stayed home (I think he was being polite and that his mom had asked him to baby sit us). Sara laid down in her hammock and Heraldo Jr and I spent some time hanging out in the kitchen. We had actually talked with Heraldo Jr a bit earlier in the day and learned about him some - he is almost done with school and wants to go to college to study agriculture - but he wants to go to a school in Costa Rica that he learned about when they gave a presentation at his school in Blue Creek. Other than all the other challenges, he'd have to learn spanish from scratch to study there and take all classes in spanish, which is a pretty big challenge. Sara gave him her English-Spanish dictionary that she had bought while learning in Guatemala as a gift in support of his college hopes.

But with everyone else out of the kitchen, he took out his drawing pad and showed me his drawings - which were fairly good copies of a Tom and Jerry cartoon he must have had. He asked if I could draw and, when I told him yes, he gave it to me to make a drawing. I set about drawing a detailed sketch of Heraldo Jr set against the back drop of his own kitchen. The sketch took a long time and meanwhile he looked through the pictures on my camera, which I hadn't cleared in a long time. After going through pictures of central america, he saw pictures of Occupy Wall St in NYC (which was actually harder to explain to him than it was to explain to my favorite conservative family members) and of the Millerton ice storm a couple years ago - which he thought looked pretty amazing. He said he wanted to come visit the US and we talked about visas and I couldn't really answer his questions about the visa process (note to self, learn more about that process). I told him he was welcome to stay with us if he did manage to get a US visa and I'll stick by it. I finished the drawing and put my name and email address on the back. He said he doesn't really have email because its so hard to check it but his brother Lazarus does - I told him to please give my email to Lazarus and that we can be in touch that way and that I'll send the photos I took in case they can be helpful to Heraldo and Lazarus' tourism business. [btw - its almost a week later and still no email from Lazarus 😞 ]

The next morning we left on the first bus, 5am, back to PG. I had scheduled a drum lesson with Emmet Young and Sara made herself at home in Jill's place, Driftwood Cafe. Emmet is a quiet guy with long dread locks and a thick Kriol accent - he is nice but not overtly friendly right away, taking time to warm up. He had borrowed a bike for me to use so we could bike to his farm and future drumming center for the lesson - Jill's place has a corner full of drums and other things for sale to benefit the drumming center but he says they get too many complaints when they hold drumming there during the day because there are offices and schools nearby. Saddled with drums on each of our bikes, we headed to the farm - which was only a 5-8 minute bike ride. The spot was really beautiful - set far back from anyone else's ears and under construction to become a great drumming center. Emmet gave me a quick tour - which mostly consisted of explanations of what each area/structure would one day be. He envisions space for camping, a solar-powered office (one panel is already up), an area for traditional over-the-fire cooking courses, of course a large area for drumming and for drum-making. There were a few young guys there who Emmet had to push a few times to get started but they did eventually sit down to start making some drums - carving out the bodies from wooden stumps. Soon we started the lesson, which was really interesting - I've never taken formal lessons in percussion but always found that it came pretty naturally for me. But Emmet went quickly over the basics and then jumped into a teaching me a few traditional Nigerian rhythms. He taught me different sections and then we played them together and then over each other. Im quite sure I've already forgotten the rhythms but he told me at the time that I can actually find most of these on youtubes - now I just need to remember the names that he taught me (or message him on Facebook to ask!).

Our last stop before leaving PG was the Cotton Tree Chocolate Factory - where a free tour with tastings was widely advertised. I don't have a picture of us as we walked up, but you can pretty much imagine any classic cartoon (i.e. yogi bear) in the scene were the character floats across the screen following a visible trail of a certain smell, in our case chocolate. The 'factory' is smaller than I thought but we no less enjoyed the tour or plentiful free tastings - and I actually did learn quite a bit about chocolate making in that short (2 minute max) tour. We bought some small bars for ourselves (they were melted an hour later and we knew they wouldn't last the remaining 3 weeks in our bags) and some hot chocolate powder that we thought might be more durable. Finally we were on our way up to Belizean coast on the next bus towards Hopkins.

Thanks for reading,

Mark & Sara

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Comments

[Joe C.]

=)
Mark and Sara, nice section here. I'm sorry you lost your original entry mark. What happened to the gringo tree and the sunburns that you were foreshadowing? Belize sounds pretty different that Guatemala. Also, you can use american dollars and cambodian reils mixed and everyone does it in cambodia; it was so weird!