I am just in love with Belize. A very simple life without all of the modern conveniences but once you adjust, you don't care.
Camping in the jungle was other-worldly. The friend that owns that land is living a life I would like to live. In the last few years he has cleared brush from the jungle and planted every kind of fruit tree - most I have never heard of, but now I have eaten from - and every kind of tropical flower. It's like jungle gardens. It's not pristine, pristine is not done here - it's natural and meandering, kind of like you'd imagine God's backyard out behind His kitchen.
Barton Creek is not Far from Spanish Lookout, where I'm staying, but it is Long. The roads are inexplicable. They seem like washed out gravel roads but the gravel is huge rocks and I ask - why do they use such rocks on the road? And the locals laugh at me and say, that is not gravel, that is the ground. The road is impassable, yet we drive on through. At 15 mph. The whole way. Slowing to 0 to go through dips and potholes and cranking up to 20 to get up steep inclines of slippery tree roots. In Wisconsin I think we might call this offroading. In Belize, it's the road to a place like the Garden of Eden.
Before we came to these offroad roads, we stopped in Georgeville for Alice to buy some Coke for the trip. The store could not be more than 12 feet deep and 10 feet wide. A beautiful elderly black woman who runs the store told Alice the update on her husband's health and her daughter's cancer in lovely Creole. I could have listened to her speak for a long time without understanding much of anything.
Outside, by the truck, a crowd (more than 20) of people waited at a bus stop (where, Alice told me later, no bus comes - they are just waiting for rides from benevolent pick-up drivers). About 10 of them were Mennonites in, as I have called it before, pilgrim attire. Alice knew they were headed to Barton Creek. She invited them, but not the others, into the back of the truck. She, being Spanish, does not trust the Spanish, or particularly the Guatemalans (she is half Guatemalan). I have not inquired further to figure this out.
One teenaged girl joined us inside because the truck bed was half filled with our Great Supply of camping provisions. She had a joyful, peaceful spirit - for me, quite a switch from most of the old world Mennonites. Many of those I've met seem very sober. Or, there is just a cultural gap of how one expresses oneself to strangers. It could be that.
I couldn't stop engaging this girl in conversation and asking her questions because she was so delightful and eager to share. We talked the whole way and asked her where we could find vegetables. She said we could come to her farm - which was a small piece of heaven on a hilltop. We stood in the yard among numerous kids of all ages and two dogs while a very kind father who had a similar (but quieter) demeanor to his daughters and a few of his sons went to gather every kind of produce for us. They had a barn and a shed for their wagon and gardens in various stages of planting - some fenced in, some covered with black netting. Clearly a whole planting strategy was taking place. The father gave much of the produce to us for free for the ride we gave "the children" and we left with avocados, breadfruit, sweet corn, lettuce, chinese cabbage, cilantro and more. Ready, as I said, for any camping culinary whim. We were set. We left the happy family on its farm in the rolling hills of upper Barton Creek and headed on to our camp spot on the lower creek.
Our route included two river crossings where you just drive right in.
I paused at the bank. "I'm supposed to go through? How do we know it's not too deep?"
"Go, Susan, go!" Alice says.
I don't know if I'm supposed to go slow so that I don't splash the undercarriage of the truck or go fast so we have enough traction to make it up the other side. So I just go. Right into the water. I can see to the bottom of the river. I think about how they should use some of this nice river rock on the Rest of the road.
If you've never driven through a river before, it really changes the demeanor of the drive. You realize you are in the very center of all of God's creation and there's a hush about the car and your mind because you simply want to take in all that is around you - peace and jungle sounds and green - every possible color and brilliance of green.
Sometime after the second river crossing, we came to the field.
"Turn here, turn here Susan."
Where? There is no road.
"Turn here Susan, Left." Down a steep embankment of only washed out tree roots into a field we go. Then left into another field.
"Do you see the tracks where Chris has driven? Follow them."
We are "tracking" now? I can hardly see them. If he drove in an hour ago, the grass has stood back up and grown 8 more inches.
"Here, Susan, here!"
Where? What? Again there is no clear "here."
We pull into the trees on the bank of the river and I am just glad we are not driving down into it this time because it is steep.
"We will call Jasmine to bring the canoe."
"I thought you said cell phones didn't work out here."
"We will call her, Susan," Alice laughs. "Call across the river."
Oh, the old fashioned "call".
I got out of the truck and stood indeed in the center of God's creation. The most beautiful place on earth. Thick vines hung down into the river with a tree swing amid them, waiting for us. Tall tropical trees and flowering plants covered both river banks, absorbing some of the sound of rushing water. Just this one view of the river alone seemed like perfection.
As soon as Alice called out, across the narrow river came a canoe navigated effortlessly by a beautiful Spanish girl with long dark hair, a contagious smile, and mischief in her eyes. She docked the canoe in the exposed tree roots on our side of the river on the first try. This is Jasmine. My new favorite 12 year old in the whole world. She speaks Creole, Spanish, and English (in that preferred order, I think) in a beautiful singsongy voice. The Creole here is based on English, as in Jamaica or the rest of the Caribbean.
We loaded the canoe down with our things - small parcels of our clothes and boxes of food for, oh, six people for a week. We were only two, and for only four days, but Alice and I are the same in this way. It's good to overplan on food. What if one night you want garnaches and another night empanadas and a night of homemade tortillas for burritos? You just need to bring enough for all of the possibilities... It worked out perfectly because for some meals our hosts joined us.
Jasmine navigates the canoe equally well from the water or in the boat. She gave Alice and I the only remaining space in the canoe and she swam the canoe across. (And also let go of it midstream, laughing and laughing as we floated past the landing helpless with the oar in the bottom of the canoe under 40 pounds of foodstuffs. We were laughing too.)
The site was all prepared for us - four tents to choose from plus a screen tent and a large pavilion roof over a propane stove and a picnic table and shelves for food and dishes. They had pans and plates and even a 5 gallon pail of spring water waiting for us for dishes or cooking - or drinking, though we brought our own drinking water. (Possibly an offense, I don't know.) The first day all we did was cook and swim. I don't know if we even looked around. How do you look around if the spot you are already in is all you want?
I think we are humanly wired for much more communion with the wild than the average life allows for. No spa on earth accomplishes the same rest and rejuvenation as a few days in the glorious middle of nowhere.
We spent four days in the jungle - a large percentage of that swimming and playing games with Jasmine in the river. She is a very effective persuader (without appearing to be so). The first time I saw her jump up to grab the swing over the water and spider-crawl her legs up over the seat, I said, "I used to be able to do things like that." But you can't just let the lithe little 12 year old have all of the fun. Soon I was spider-crawling (I'm making up that term because it seems to give the gist) into the swing from the water too. (Later perhaps I'll explain about the cliff jumping, ok, Rock Jumping, but from down below it looked like a cliff... that Alice and I were Not going to do, but you see Jasmine do it over and over with such glee you think you are missing a jungle experience to just tread water in the river below...)
One day Chris and Jasmine took us to explore Barton Creek Cave by canoe. We rented a light that came with a car battery for power and lit up areas so we could see. Stalactites and stalagmites and a spring running out of the wall of the cave into a mini waterfall. Tables and crevices and ledges that once held countless Mayan artifacts - pottery and skeletons - when Chris first started touring this cave 40 years ago. Scavengers and archeologists have made off with all of them. Apparently it's legal if you register them with the government.
The cave is 300 feet high in some places and 4 feet high in others. (You bend down low to pass through!) It's 15 feet wide in some places and 2 feet wide in others (Everyone lean right and tip the canoe a little to get through). The cave was oddly peaceful in spite of its history (I remind you of the skeletons mentioned earlier...they weren't ancient spelunkers ... but the Mayas practiced human sacrifice). The cave was quite dramatic. Twice we got out of the canoe to walk around (mostly in the dark!), once to have snacks and turn all of our lights off and witness darkness.
On the way out, we realized that It's one thing - and beautiful - going in toward the darkness (with your light to illuminate the cavern) but it's another when you're coming out of darkness into the light. It's stunning.
I'm sure there's a life lesson lodged in there...
After the cave, we went to one of Jasmine's friends' houses to cool off in the river. The river there has a deep pool right at the base of a big rock. This is the place that we could not help but jump because of Jasmine's contagious delight.
On Day 4 we broke camp (with thoughts of returning sometime before I leave Belize) and meandered home on, once again, impassable roads. Alice's dad had taken care of everything at the house while we were gone. We took him back home to San Ignacio and I saw the city for the first time in the evening. We all had dinner at a great restaurant tucked into a little neighborhood. (My best restaurant experience in Belize so far!) A little city ending to a perfect jungle week.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Vamos al monte!
Alice and I have packed up Everything. We ran into Belmopan and renewed my visa and bought trail mix and gassed up the truck. It's the most we have ever laughed together so far. When people from US laugh, I think we punctuate the laughter with "Oh..." - or maybe that's just my family. When Alice laughs, she punctuates her gasps of laughter with "Aye! Aye! Aye!" It makes me laugh all the harder. Sometimes she can't stop saying Aye, which is meant to be considered an ongoing laugh when you don't have the breath or diaphragm leeway to eek out another laugh.
It all had to do with the amazing number of speed bumps anywhere you drive in Belize (including the four highways). If you read about Belize online, you are sure to find stories about the many (many) unmarked speed bumps that will bottom out your rental car if you are not a careful driver.
Alice is a driver's lookout. She does it when David drives and when I drive. She checks right when you're turning left and cries out 'Clear" in a voice with lots of resonance that sometimes surprises me into stopping instead of proceeding ahead. And she calls out "Bump!" when you should slow to go over a speed bump. I'm so used to hearing "Bump" called out, it's almost become a standard conversation interjection like "mm hmm," so sometimes I almost miss the warning cries. We could not stop laughing about this on the way into town.
At the time, a Mennonite family was with us (We have a policy of not giving rides in the back of the truck since David is not with us. However, we are constantly making exceptions to our policy.) They were headed to the hospital and it was mostly women, so we obliged. The mother was in the front seat with a baby with us. She was intrigued by our laughter and conversation. Two teenagers and a kid were in the back. We dropped them at the hospital and prayed for the girl who was going in for I think what we would call terrible boils. I've heard a lot about problems with boils - from the missionary pastor's wife at church on Sunday, to Mennonites at the other church, to this family heading to the hospital. The hospital did not inspire my confidence. Having been sick on my last two international locations, I had had great empathy for them.
We ran our errands and on the way back, we stopped for batteries and grapefruit juice in nearby Spanish Lookout, where we ran into our next truck load. Alice's cousins. I don't know if it's one family or three but there were about 10 of them - three adults and the rest kids - and they wanted to come back to the house to visit while we packed up the truck for camping. Then we were to drop them off back home, halfway to Barton Creek. They had paid $40 Belize to take a taxi into Spanish Lookout to go to the dairy for ice cream. A big adventure out for all of the kids. So they climbed in. I think 10 might be the capacity of the back of a pickup. It seemed like one or two might bounce out on one of the rutted roads.
They had a riot - laughing and laughing as they were tossed around the bed of the truck and screaming like a carnival ride as we turned corners. (Not because of my driving!) Alice and I were laughing too because you couldn't not laugh along. They really loved the road to Alice's house which goes down into a pit (where there are always potholes full of mud to splash) and back up a steep incline with more potholes.
So God has blessed my day with more laughter than in quite a few months. I've had so much thoughtful time in Belize, which has been rich and transforming. But if today is the indication of days to come, God is offering a lot of lightheartedness to follow the sobriety and intensity of the days that have been.
Alice's dad has arrived to care for her animals. The truck is ready and tarped over because we are sure to drive in rain if not camp in rain all week. I should have amazing reports by the weekend on the jungle, magnificent mayan ruins, artifacts aloft in caves, the world's best watermelons (I'm predicting) and the adventures of Alicia and Susana in the very small and extraordinary country of Belize.
"Vamos al monte," Alice says. (Let's go to the bush!)
It all had to do with the amazing number of speed bumps anywhere you drive in Belize (including the four highways). If you read about Belize online, you are sure to find stories about the many (many) unmarked speed bumps that will bottom out your rental car if you are not a careful driver.
Alice is a driver's lookout. She does it when David drives and when I drive. She checks right when you're turning left and cries out 'Clear" in a voice with lots of resonance that sometimes surprises me into stopping instead of proceeding ahead. And she calls out "Bump!" when you should slow to go over a speed bump. I'm so used to hearing "Bump" called out, it's almost become a standard conversation interjection like "mm hmm," so sometimes I almost miss the warning cries. We could not stop laughing about this on the way into town.
At the time, a Mennonite family was with us (We have a policy of not giving rides in the back of the truck since David is not with us. However, we are constantly making exceptions to our policy.) They were headed to the hospital and it was mostly women, so we obliged. The mother was in the front seat with a baby with us. She was intrigued by our laughter and conversation. Two teenagers and a kid were in the back. We dropped them at the hospital and prayed for the girl who was going in for I think what we would call terrible boils. I've heard a lot about problems with boils - from the missionary pastor's wife at church on Sunday, to Mennonites at the other church, to this family heading to the hospital. The hospital did not inspire my confidence. Having been sick on my last two international locations, I had had great empathy for them.
We ran our errands and on the way back, we stopped for batteries and grapefruit juice in nearby Spanish Lookout, where we ran into our next truck load. Alice's cousins. I don't know if it's one family or three but there were about 10 of them - three adults and the rest kids - and they wanted to come back to the house to visit while we packed up the truck for camping. Then we were to drop them off back home, halfway to Barton Creek. They had paid $40 Belize to take a taxi into Spanish Lookout to go to the dairy for ice cream. A big adventure out for all of the kids. So they climbed in. I think 10 might be the capacity of the back of a pickup. It seemed like one or two might bounce out on one of the rutted roads.
They had a riot - laughing and laughing as they were tossed around the bed of the truck and screaming like a carnival ride as we turned corners. (Not because of my driving!) Alice and I were laughing too because you couldn't not laugh along. They really loved the road to Alice's house which goes down into a pit (where there are always potholes full of mud to splash) and back up a steep incline with more potholes.
So God has blessed my day with more laughter than in quite a few months. I've had so much thoughtful time in Belize, which has been rich and transforming. But if today is the indication of days to come, God is offering a lot of lightheartedness to follow the sobriety and intensity of the days that have been.
Alice's dad has arrived to care for her animals. The truck is ready and tarped over because we are sure to drive in rain if not camp in rain all week. I should have amazing reports by the weekend on the jungle, magnificent mayan ruins, artifacts aloft in caves, the world's best watermelons (I'm predicting) and the adventures of Alicia and Susana in the very small and extraordinary country of Belize.
"Vamos al monte," Alice says. (Let's go to the bush!)
Cancers Both Tangible and Ethereal
God speaks to me mostly in the early morning. My first brain hours. My defenses are not up yet. He can slip in anything He wants before I can filter what I might not want to hear. I'm glad of that. I really do want to hear.
When God speaks in the early morning, the topic has been character issues, you could say. The ways I am that I mostly don't even know about myself, but when brought to light aren't who I want to be. God and I discussed my inability to see these bits of evil for what they are sometimes.
How do I change what I can't even see in myself? What I only realize when I am down yonder in Belize with nothing but time to think about it? And if your want or tend toward things that are not good for you, how do you change THAT? The heart wants what the heart wants. Is it just will power?
It occurred to me that it's the principle of the 90-day cleanse I'm going through. You fill yourself with good food and you lose the taste for bad. It's not will power. (It's not will power at all.) When you start eating exclusively what is good and nutritious and delicious, your palate starts to change. You crave what is good and nutritious and delicious. Even if the sugar or french fry desire doesn't wane completely, you don't mindlessly "want and therefore eat," anymore. At least at some level you make a decision either to not eat because it feeds cancer, or to eat it in spite of that. (And sometimes that's okay.) The point at some stage is to consciously make the choice, not have your desires run you (amok).
Maybe the heart is the same. You fill the heart with what is pure and good and focus on truth not lies or nonreality, and your appetite changes. You start to be drawn to what is good and repelled by what is bad. Your pursuit of God stops being able to coexist in your heart with your pursuit of what is self-serving / destructive / thoughtless / (insert your word). Not that you aren't still tempted by the spiritual french fry, but you at some level make a choice because the difference has become clear. You decide not to judge someone for being so judgmental because you realize "Oh, I'm doing the same thing" instead of letting your righteous indignation steamroll on through.
It was in an instant, just a blink, when I realized this.
I decided I would work on the heart issue and let God work on the cancer.
"Which cancer?"
Oh. My. So He's calling the heart issue a cancer. That sounds so much worse than I would label it. And the centrifugal force of this thought whipped my perspective around.
If both are like cancer - silent, almost symptomless, but deadly cancer - and God were doing triage, which would He would work on first? Luckily (for me) He's God and He works on them all at once, but He doesn't want me to be thinking that one is important and the other is negligible. If anything, the one I want to discount is the one He wants me to give my full attention...
These are my quiet thoughts as I head to the jungle today. Adios for a week or so!
When God speaks in the early morning, the topic has been character issues, you could say. The ways I am that I mostly don't even know about myself, but when brought to light aren't who I want to be. God and I discussed my inability to see these bits of evil for what they are sometimes.
How do I change what I can't even see in myself? What I only realize when I am down yonder in Belize with nothing but time to think about it? And if your want or tend toward things that are not good for you, how do you change THAT? The heart wants what the heart wants. Is it just will power?
It occurred to me that it's the principle of the 90-day cleanse I'm going through. You fill yourself with good food and you lose the taste for bad. It's not will power. (It's not will power at all.) When you start eating exclusively what is good and nutritious and delicious, your palate starts to change. You crave what is good and nutritious and delicious. Even if the sugar or french fry desire doesn't wane completely, you don't mindlessly "want and therefore eat," anymore. At least at some level you make a decision either to not eat because it feeds cancer, or to eat it in spite of that. (And sometimes that's okay.) The point at some stage is to consciously make the choice, not have your desires run you (amok).
Maybe the heart is the same. You fill the heart with what is pure and good and focus on truth not lies or nonreality, and your appetite changes. You start to be drawn to what is good and repelled by what is bad. Your pursuit of God stops being able to coexist in your heart with your pursuit of what is self-serving / destructive / thoughtless / (insert your word). Not that you aren't still tempted by the spiritual french fry, but you at some level make a choice because the difference has become clear. You decide not to judge someone for being so judgmental because you realize "Oh, I'm doing the same thing" instead of letting your righteous indignation steamroll on through.
It was in an instant, just a blink, when I realized this.
I decided I would work on the heart issue and let God work on the cancer.
"Which cancer?"
Oh. My. So He's calling the heart issue a cancer. That sounds so much worse than I would label it. And the centrifugal force of this thought whipped my perspective around.
If both are like cancer - silent, almost symptomless, but deadly cancer - and God were doing triage, which would He would work on first? Luckily (for me) He's God and He works on them all at once, but He doesn't want me to be thinking that one is important and the other is negligible. If anything, the one I want to discount is the one He wants me to give my full attention...
These are my quiet thoughts as I head to the jungle today. Adios for a week or so!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Truck Driving, Mennonites, Hitchhikers and Vanities
I am trying to remember if I have ever driven in a foreign country before. Only that one time our tour guides in Mexico were drunk so I was driving and we blew out a tire in the middle of a jungle road ...
"I'm driving in Belize!" I told Alice.
When I walked over to Alice's for ice, she decided she would like to install a vanity in the bathroom, so we took our first drive in David's truck. No glitches (because I decided not to pull forward Over the concrete pylon which I could not see, but back up instead).
The town of Spanish Lookout is a settlement of Mennonites from Germany. They vary in how conservative / modern they are. They run most of the stores in Spanish Lookout (and provide most of the agriculture and home-building for the whole country.) Some of the women wear their hair wound into a bun covered by lace and dresses past the knee and covering their shoulders. But they also can be seen riding motorcycles down the street in this attire. They are reserved in general, very kind spirited and gracious. They speak an old style of German (I am told) among themselves and to us speak English with a lovely lilt where many phrases sound like a question when they are not. Many or most also know Spanish and or English Creole which is spoken here. I have learned not to try to make store clerks laugh as they are helping me find a flashlight or other sundry item, and not to be chatty. The women are very pleasant but the men don't interact with women they don't know. I think I have wearied the workers at a few of the stores we go to regularly. They see me coming and know I am going to talk too much. I am trying to dial it back.
Other Mennonite communities - especially those back in the jungle - are very old world. The men grow long beards and the women dress in what we would consider pilgrim attire - long dresses, aprons, and bonnets covering their hair (and shading their faces from the sun). They live without electricity and use a horse and buggy for transportation.
Alice and David and I went to Springfield last week. The most conservative community of Mennonites in the world, David proudly told me. He is not a Mennonite himself but admires their life free of modern conveniences I think. He told me it was a rare opportunity for me to see the community firsthand since I am an outsider, so I went along.
When we arrived at the turnoff, about 20 empty buggies and tethered horses were parked at the highway. They ride the 5 miles down the road from their community by buggy and then wait along the highway for the bus that comes every hour.
We drove back into the community to see Isaac, David's friend, who is a dentist. Yes, a dentist in a community without electricity. I thought tooth-pulling might be his major role, but Alice told me that he can run his power tools with electricity generated by horses. When we drove past their saw mill I spotted the wheel they tie the horses to and make them walk in a circle to drive the mill. I guess Isaac has this for his dental tools too.
The community is very rustic and natural. Nothing is orderly; much seems in mild disrepair. Grass is not mown (of course) but is hacked off by machete where a clearing is needed. The gardens I saw by the houses were only roughly rectangular with a patch of weeds here, a patch of vegetables there. No modern tools making straight edges - or maybe no desire for that kind of order. Some houses or sheds were just sided with corrugated metal roofing. It gave me the sense of subsistence living in the U.S. back in the Depression era. We saw almost no one in the whole community except Isaac and his son. David visited with them; Alice and I sat outside in the shade. She said sometimes she goes in with him. Maybe because a stranger was along it was inappropriate. Isaac was very pleasant to greet us, shook our hands and looked us in the eye. His son (about 16) did not speak to us or even glance at us until we were driving away.
While we were waiting, a little girl with red hair underneath her bonnet came sneaking up to the car to take a look at us. I know how she feels - she is only the second red-haired person I have seen since coming to Belize, so I noticed her too as we drove in. She wanted to see what a grown-up red-head looks like without a bonnet, I think. Then she ran away.
On the way out of the community, David bought cream from one house (which Alice and Rose and I made into butter the next day!) and the man mentioned his wife was on the way to the chiropractor and could we give her a lift into Belmopan. She had ridden out to the highway in a horse and buggy.
We stopped for her and everyone else at the bus stop got in the back of the pickup, too. Three men, two women. Then the dairy man's wife came to the passenger window with an infant and handed him through to me.
"Would you like to hold him? It may be a bit windy for him back here."
Oh my, wind is the biggest concern of carrying a baby loose in the back of an open pickup? So I held him for the ride. He didn't mind, though I could not get him to smile. I thought I should have given the woman and baby my seat in the cab, but then I would have been in the back with the Mennonite men and maybe they would have had to hop out in that case (what with me wearing no bonnet and accompaniments). It's a whole sticky cultural situation. I stayed in the truck with the baby.
We left Springfield and headed for the capitol city of Belmopan, on our way to San Ignacio (where I would finally realize "I am in Central America!") The riders would give a tap to the back window or top of the pickup when they wanted to hop off, and David would pull over. They offered him their bus fare for gas (a dollar). But he would tell them the fare was $40 and just pull away. They all seem to know David.
We had many requests for rides as we continued on our route - people hailing us from the roadside like you'd hail a cab. The acceptable way to decline the pleading look and wave as you pass by is to point to the left. This means you're turning soon, not going on ahead. (Whether you're actually turning or not.) David exercised this frequently.
He recognized a homeless-appearing (to me) Garifuna (Carribean) man on the roadside.
"If I don't pick him up I'll hear about it later," he said.
The man hopped in back. He is a "runner" for a neighborhood store we just passed. We took him down to the larger store, where he picks up the stock for the other place. I guess he does it once a day and that's his whole job. He just counts on a ride from whomever will stop. David has known the store owner for a few decades so he always stops for him.
So now David is in the U.S. and Alice and I have a pickup truck to travel the four highways of Belize. We returned home from the Mennonite store (where I did not over-talk to the store clerk) with a new bathroom vanity. Alice has someone lined up to install it tomorrow. She wastes no time. For all I know she came up with the idea for a vanity as we sat there in her living room and tomorrow her bathroom will be like new. Monday I will be fully back to solid foods and we will drive to Barton Creek for our camping trip.
It's up to us whether we will be the cross country shuttle for all of the roadside hitchhikers or not. I think we will use a lot of the "pointing left" signal....
"I'm driving in Belize!" I told Alice.
When I walked over to Alice's for ice, she decided she would like to install a vanity in the bathroom, so we took our first drive in David's truck. No glitches (because I decided not to pull forward Over the concrete pylon which I could not see, but back up instead).
The town of Spanish Lookout is a settlement of Mennonites from Germany. They vary in how conservative / modern they are. They run most of the stores in Spanish Lookout (and provide most of the agriculture and home-building for the whole country.) Some of the women wear their hair wound into a bun covered by lace and dresses past the knee and covering their shoulders. But they also can be seen riding motorcycles down the street in this attire. They are reserved in general, very kind spirited and gracious. They speak an old style of German (I am told) among themselves and to us speak English with a lovely lilt where many phrases sound like a question when they are not. Many or most also know Spanish and or English Creole which is spoken here. I have learned not to try to make store clerks laugh as they are helping me find a flashlight or other sundry item, and not to be chatty. The women are very pleasant but the men don't interact with women they don't know. I think I have wearied the workers at a few of the stores we go to regularly. They see me coming and know I am going to talk too much. I am trying to dial it back.
Other Mennonite communities - especially those back in the jungle - are very old world. The men grow long beards and the women dress in what we would consider pilgrim attire - long dresses, aprons, and bonnets covering their hair (and shading their faces from the sun). They live without electricity and use a horse and buggy for transportation.
Alice and David and I went to Springfield last week. The most conservative community of Mennonites in the world, David proudly told me. He is not a Mennonite himself but admires their life free of modern conveniences I think. He told me it was a rare opportunity for me to see the community firsthand since I am an outsider, so I went along.
When we arrived at the turnoff, about 20 empty buggies and tethered horses were parked at the highway. They ride the 5 miles down the road from their community by buggy and then wait along the highway for the bus that comes every hour.
We drove back into the community to see Isaac, David's friend, who is a dentist. Yes, a dentist in a community without electricity. I thought tooth-pulling might be his major role, but Alice told me that he can run his power tools with electricity generated by horses. When we drove past their saw mill I spotted the wheel they tie the horses to and make them walk in a circle to drive the mill. I guess Isaac has this for his dental tools too.
The community is very rustic and natural. Nothing is orderly; much seems in mild disrepair. Grass is not mown (of course) but is hacked off by machete where a clearing is needed. The gardens I saw by the houses were only roughly rectangular with a patch of weeds here, a patch of vegetables there. No modern tools making straight edges - or maybe no desire for that kind of order. Some houses or sheds were just sided with corrugated metal roofing. It gave me the sense of subsistence living in the U.S. back in the Depression era. We saw almost no one in the whole community except Isaac and his son. David visited with them; Alice and I sat outside in the shade. She said sometimes she goes in with him. Maybe because a stranger was along it was inappropriate. Isaac was very pleasant to greet us, shook our hands and looked us in the eye. His son (about 16) did not speak to us or even glance at us until we were driving away.
While we were waiting, a little girl with red hair underneath her bonnet came sneaking up to the car to take a look at us. I know how she feels - she is only the second red-haired person I have seen since coming to Belize, so I noticed her too as we drove in. She wanted to see what a grown-up red-head looks like without a bonnet, I think. Then she ran away.
On the way out of the community, David bought cream from one house (which Alice and Rose and I made into butter the next day!) and the man mentioned his wife was on the way to the chiropractor and could we give her a lift into Belmopan. She had ridden out to the highway in a horse and buggy.
We stopped for her and everyone else at the bus stop got in the back of the pickup, too. Three men, two women. Then the dairy man's wife came to the passenger window with an infant and handed him through to me.
"Would you like to hold him? It may be a bit windy for him back here."
Oh my, wind is the biggest concern of carrying a baby loose in the back of an open pickup? So I held him for the ride. He didn't mind, though I could not get him to smile. I thought I should have given the woman and baby my seat in the cab, but then I would have been in the back with the Mennonite men and maybe they would have had to hop out in that case (what with me wearing no bonnet and accompaniments). It's a whole sticky cultural situation. I stayed in the truck with the baby.
We left Springfield and headed for the capitol city of Belmopan, on our way to San Ignacio (where I would finally realize "I am in Central America!") The riders would give a tap to the back window or top of the pickup when they wanted to hop off, and David would pull over. They offered him their bus fare for gas (a dollar). But he would tell them the fare was $40 and just pull away. They all seem to know David.
We had many requests for rides as we continued on our route - people hailing us from the roadside like you'd hail a cab. The acceptable way to decline the pleading look and wave as you pass by is to point to the left. This means you're turning soon, not going on ahead. (Whether you're actually turning or not.) David exercised this frequently.
He recognized a homeless-appearing (to me) Garifuna (Carribean) man on the roadside.
"If I don't pick him up I'll hear about it later," he said.
The man hopped in back. He is a "runner" for a neighborhood store we just passed. We took him down to the larger store, where he picks up the stock for the other place. I guess he does it once a day and that's his whole job. He just counts on a ride from whomever will stop. David has known the store owner for a few decades so he always stops for him.
So now David is in the U.S. and Alice and I have a pickup truck to travel the four highways of Belize. We returned home from the Mennonite store (where I did not over-talk to the store clerk) with a new bathroom vanity. Alice has someone lined up to install it tomorrow. She wastes no time. For all I know she came up with the idea for a vanity as we sat there in her living room and tomorrow her bathroom will be like new. Monday I will be fully back to solid foods and we will drive to Barton Creek for our camping trip.
It's up to us whether we will be the cross country shuttle for all of the roadside hitchhikers or not. I think we will use a lot of the "pointing left" signal....
Thursday, July 21, 2011
One More Day of Juice...
Last night I dreamt of sugared (caramelized) pecans. Right now I hear Rose chopping in the kitchen. I don't even know what it is but it makes me salivate. To crunch on something would seem divine. Yesterday when I juiced my vegetables I wanted to Eat a carrot. I juiced it. The idea is that your digestive system doesn't have to turn on to process just juice, but if you cheat and eat something solid, it has to shut other processes down to gear up just for that. So you might as well not do a 7-day cleanse if you're going to cheat. (This is also why they eat only a speck for supper. So you do not spend time in the night digesting...)
The juice is very good - delicious. I have learned how to pair them so I have different jars to drink from all day. When I was juicing all things together and drinking the same thing all day long, the first glass was good but by the end of the day I could hardly choke it down. When you mix everything together it is a brown-green or brown-red if you've juiced a beet. This does not look appetizing, though it often is tasty. Carrots juiced, however, are quite beautiful.
Today was a winning day for juice:
1) tomatoes and basil and green pepper and one carrot (it's like I cheated and had salsa!)
2) Romaine, basil, chowchow (a tender green vegetable), and cucumbers
3) Carrots mixed with a little of #2.
The tomato is savory. Yum. The greens are light and refreshing. Yum. And the carrot is sweet like candy. Yum. When you can alternate them all, you can Finish your juice instead of staring at the last ugly bit in the jar.
Right now I will walk the 1/2 mile to Alice's house to get ice for my cooler that holds my vegetables for juicing. She freezes two 1-quart containers of water for me every day. Some of it will drip into my shoe as I carry it back. Otherwise we would have to drive 3 miles into Spanish Lookout (the nearest town) every day to get ice. (Or if I walked there, it would really drip into my shoe and everywhere on the way back.) This is the difference of the context I'm in. Driving three miles is a decision to make. The once-a-week venture to market in Belmopan turns out to be only 20 miles away. I would flit over there whenever I needed to if it were me! It's no further than driving my pups to the Big dog park at home - which I do several times a week. But I like this different consideration of costs and need. I like it a lot. Jumping in the car to do this or that because you can (or because you don't think about it) creates a lot of running around stress sometimes. Now I keep lists. At home I do too, but here I live by them. If I forget to write down aloe vera gel then we don't remember to stop at the health food store on the one trip to Belmopan. In that case, it may be one week or two before another chance to get my aloe vera gel (a pale girl's after-sun friend). Aloe is also growing in the yard, but I would use up their whole plant with my daily applications.
My fast goes through tomorrow. Then Saturday I may have only vegetable soup and in great quantities and all day. Even for breakfast. Then, Sunday I may venture into more variety - rice and steamed vegetables. Monday is the first day I can eat the full "maintenance diet." Still no meat, no dairy, nothing fermented... This is also the day we go on our big camping trip. Alice's tortillas over the fire will be like manna from heaven. I think I have had no wheat at all since starting this 90 day program...
The juice is very good - delicious. I have learned how to pair them so I have different jars to drink from all day. When I was juicing all things together and drinking the same thing all day long, the first glass was good but by the end of the day I could hardly choke it down. When you mix everything together it is a brown-green or brown-red if you've juiced a beet. This does not look appetizing, though it often is tasty. Carrots juiced, however, are quite beautiful.
Today was a winning day for juice:
1) tomatoes and basil and green pepper and one carrot (it's like I cheated and had salsa!)
2) Romaine, basil, chowchow (a tender green vegetable), and cucumbers
3) Carrots mixed with a little of #2.
The tomato is savory. Yum. The greens are light and refreshing. Yum. And the carrot is sweet like candy. Yum. When you can alternate them all, you can Finish your juice instead of staring at the last ugly bit in the jar.
Right now I will walk the 1/2 mile to Alice's house to get ice for my cooler that holds my vegetables for juicing. She freezes two 1-quart containers of water for me every day. Some of it will drip into my shoe as I carry it back. Otherwise we would have to drive 3 miles into Spanish Lookout (the nearest town) every day to get ice. (Or if I walked there, it would really drip into my shoe and everywhere on the way back.) This is the difference of the context I'm in. Driving three miles is a decision to make. The once-a-week venture to market in Belmopan turns out to be only 20 miles away. I would flit over there whenever I needed to if it were me! It's no further than driving my pups to the Big dog park at home - which I do several times a week. But I like this different consideration of costs and need. I like it a lot. Jumping in the car to do this or that because you can (or because you don't think about it) creates a lot of running around stress sometimes. Now I keep lists. At home I do too, but here I live by them. If I forget to write down aloe vera gel then we don't remember to stop at the health food store on the one trip to Belmopan. In that case, it may be one week or two before another chance to get my aloe vera gel (a pale girl's after-sun friend). Aloe is also growing in the yard, but I would use up their whole plant with my daily applications.
My fast goes through tomorrow. Then Saturday I may have only vegetable soup and in great quantities and all day. Even for breakfast. Then, Sunday I may venture into more variety - rice and steamed vegetables. Monday is the first day I can eat the full "maintenance diet." Still no meat, no dairy, nothing fermented... This is also the day we go on our big camping trip. Alice's tortillas over the fire will be like manna from heaven. I think I have had no wheat at all since starting this 90 day program...
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Belize - Part 2
I am faring well through my 7-day juicing fast. I haven't been sick at all this time, and I have lots of energy. I think this is showing that the detoxing is done. I was so beleagured through the last ones. Now I move into Maintenance Mode, which is more like the schedule and the diet I described in my last post. (And this 7-day juicing fast is exactly that, nothing but 2 or 3 pounds of juiced vegetables a day plus supplements and other Protocols and Procedures.) I will be happy to have the juicing fasts over.
My new friend, Alice, is Spanish. Her husband offered that while he is in the US for a month I could use his car so Alice (who doesn't drive) and I could travel around Belize together for the month he is gone. No! Seriously?
This is how it is when God is your travel agent. I didn't even know there would be a Belize Part 2. It was just about focusing on healing and then spending time at the ocean before returning to the US. Here my time is only half gone and there's a whole Belize Part 2 to be had.
So, I talked to my hosts / coaches and said: "I have this great offer to travel. I think I have learned what I came to learn. I think I'm ready to move on and tackle Maintenance Mode on my own. What do you think?"
They agreed! Morry said his whole goal it to "help people be the captain of their own ship" and then set them to sail. We will still stay in touch while I'm here. I will just be 1/2 mile down the road at Alice's when we are not off Adventuring.
I can't believe I get to experience the culture and country of Belize with a local friend! She has 50 chickens, a horse, 4 dogs, a few cats and some other animals we bought corn for - maybe a few cows. I asked her what she wanted to do on our first excursion. Camping. I am a huge camper! What are the chances that my new friend in Belize would love camping?
So I'm moving from contemplative mode to adventure mode - though laid-back adventure. I'm still intent on keeping up the program and not losing any ground I've gained health wise.
First we need to go to Belmopan, the capitol, and ask nicely to renew my visa. They only give you 30 days to stay in Belize at first. Then, if you're an exemplary guest, you can get extended.
From there we will go to the market - all open air, some produce grown locally some from Mexico and other places in Central America. Alice says we will buy tomatoes and cilantro and veg-e-tables (she enunciates) and onion and flour for making tortillas over the fire and chicken to barbecue (which I can't eat, but it's the art of making it Belizean style that I want to see!)
From the market we will go to Barton Creek which is in the jungle where Alice's friend has a health food business and land on the river and all the camping gear two wayfaring girls could need. Her friend offered to take us spelunking in a cave near/on his land and up to a Mayan ruin.
I could not have scheduled this if I tried.
Also in the jungle of Barton Creek live Mennonites who grow watermelons and other delicious things. I will buy a lot of watermelon. It's one of the alkaline-forming foods (= anti-cancer) even though it's sweet. I don't know why that is. I will have as much as I want. That and grapefruit I can have with wild abandon. (And vegetables. No bread. No meat. No dairy at all. Nothing packaged. Nothing fermented or mold related or mushroom-like.) :-)
This is only next week's adventure! Only my travel agent knows what the following days bring! However long funds and friendship hold out we'll be tooling around Belize. Or, for all I know, there's a Belize Part 3... I'll keep you posted.
Love and Adoration,
Susan
My new friend, Alice, is Spanish. Her husband offered that while he is in the US for a month I could use his car so Alice (who doesn't drive) and I could travel around Belize together for the month he is gone. No! Seriously?
This is how it is when God is your travel agent. I didn't even know there would be a Belize Part 2. It was just about focusing on healing and then spending time at the ocean before returning to the US. Here my time is only half gone and there's a whole Belize Part 2 to be had.
So, I talked to my hosts / coaches and said: "I have this great offer to travel. I think I have learned what I came to learn. I think I'm ready to move on and tackle Maintenance Mode on my own. What do you think?"
They agreed! Morry said his whole goal it to "help people be the captain of their own ship" and then set them to sail. We will still stay in touch while I'm here. I will just be 1/2 mile down the road at Alice's when we are not off Adventuring.
I can't believe I get to experience the culture and country of Belize with a local friend! She has 50 chickens, a horse, 4 dogs, a few cats and some other animals we bought corn for - maybe a few cows. I asked her what she wanted to do on our first excursion. Camping. I am a huge camper! What are the chances that my new friend in Belize would love camping?
So I'm moving from contemplative mode to adventure mode - though laid-back adventure. I'm still intent on keeping up the program and not losing any ground I've gained health wise.
First we need to go to Belmopan, the capitol, and ask nicely to renew my visa. They only give you 30 days to stay in Belize at first. Then, if you're an exemplary guest, you can get extended.
From there we will go to the market - all open air, some produce grown locally some from Mexico and other places in Central America. Alice says we will buy tomatoes and cilantro and veg-e-tables (she enunciates) and onion and flour for making tortillas over the fire and chicken to barbecue (which I can't eat, but it's the art of making it Belizean style that I want to see!)
From the market we will go to Barton Creek which is in the jungle where Alice's friend has a health food business and land on the river and all the camping gear two wayfaring girls could need. Her friend offered to take us spelunking in a cave near/on his land and up to a Mayan ruin.
I could not have scheduled this if I tried.
Also in the jungle of Barton Creek live Mennonites who grow watermelons and other delicious things. I will buy a lot of watermelon. It's one of the alkaline-forming foods (= anti-cancer) even though it's sweet. I don't know why that is. I will have as much as I want. That and grapefruit I can have with wild abandon. (And vegetables. No bread. No meat. No dairy at all. Nothing packaged. Nothing fermented or mold related or mushroom-like.) :-)
This is only next week's adventure! Only my travel agent knows what the following days bring! However long funds and friendship hold out we'll be tooling around Belize. Or, for all I know, there's a Belize Part 3... I'll keep you posted.
Love and Adoration,
Susan
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Belizean Rain
When you can't get online everyday, it's just impossible to be bloggish. So much happens in between you can't keep a cohesive train of thought from post to post. I am pulling these out of my journal, because I'm finishing Week 3 in Belize and only now getting to update my blog.
Somewhere in Week 2, we had a glorious storm. Morry saw it far off and called to Rose and Rose called to me to close the windows in my side of the cabana. We stood and watched it approach - not just the dark clouds rolling in, but the rain falling way off over David and Alice's house. Then I saw the rain hit the cornfield between us and the row of Delarosa houses. It was like a combine bending the corn in a wave as it approached us. Then BAM it hit the tin roof like a cannon and every window was washed in the energy of rain. It was glorious. I love rain. Most people don't go to the tropics in the rainy season, but I love it. It's so dramatic. I went out front and stood and watched and took pictures.
...
My schedule here is very different than at home. I wake up at 4:30 am when I hear Morry in the kitchen making his breakfast. I usually get up about 5:00 and have a morning regimen to follow before breakfast at 7:00. Breakfast is oatmeal with raisins and coconut. Then I usually have a contemplative morning reading and praying and writing in my journal and figuring out life. It's an amazing luxurious time. Around 11 Morry calls us for lunch, which is rice and possibly beans or lentils and lots of fresh vegetables stir fried or steamed. This is the meal to eat as much as I want (except then they tell me only eat what I Need so that my digestion process doesn't take up undue energy which should go to healing instead. That news ruined everything...) At 3 p.m. I have 30 minutes of oxygen which is accelerates healing in the cells. There's another energy machine I am supposed to be on after that, but both mysteriously broke. (As did the oxygen machine, as did my iPad. Both of those came back to life, but electronics in the tropics....I don't know.) Then at 4:00 Rose makes fruit smoothies of papaya and banana or mango. At 5:00 Morry serves us dinner which is a smidgen of whatever was for lunch. They believe supper should be very light and Nothing is eaten after supper. At 6:30 they watch a DVD. Sometimes I join them. First it was old Barney Miller episodes. Now we are working through four seasons of Touched by an Angel. At 7:30 Morry goes to bed and often so do I. Or I write some more and then sleep because at 4:30.....
I can see it's good for my system not to eat much at night. And the early morning schedule is good too. Part of the point of being here for two months is to have some of these things become habits that stick with me when I return to my own life. Your body does all of its healing and restorative processes - organ by organ - at different times in the night, starting at 10 p.m., so it's very important to be in a deep sleep by 10 p.m. or your body will skip those processes. So for healing, a crazy early night schedule and crazy early morning schedule are best. (Guthrie has been trying to tell me this for years and I just don't listen. He always comes and finds me at 7:30 thinking I should head to bed...)
These are such small things to say. So much is going on in my head and heart, and so many more experiences than these. Belize is wonderful for me.
Somewhere in Week 2, we had a glorious storm. Morry saw it far off and called to Rose and Rose called to me to close the windows in my side of the cabana. We stood and watched it approach - not just the dark clouds rolling in, but the rain falling way off over David and Alice's house. Then I saw the rain hit the cornfield between us and the row of Delarosa houses. It was like a combine bending the corn in a wave as it approached us. Then BAM it hit the tin roof like a cannon and every window was washed in the energy of rain. It was glorious. I love rain. Most people don't go to the tropics in the rainy season, but I love it. It's so dramatic. I went out front and stood and watched and took pictures.
...
My schedule here is very different than at home. I wake up at 4:30 am when I hear Morry in the kitchen making his breakfast. I usually get up about 5:00 and have a morning regimen to follow before breakfast at 7:00. Breakfast is oatmeal with raisins and coconut. Then I usually have a contemplative morning reading and praying and writing in my journal and figuring out life. It's an amazing luxurious time. Around 11 Morry calls us for lunch, which is rice and possibly beans or lentils and lots of fresh vegetables stir fried or steamed. This is the meal to eat as much as I want (except then they tell me only eat what I Need so that my digestion process doesn't take up undue energy which should go to healing instead. That news ruined everything...) At 3 p.m. I have 30 minutes of oxygen which is accelerates healing in the cells. There's another energy machine I am supposed to be on after that, but both mysteriously broke. (As did the oxygen machine, as did my iPad. Both of those came back to life, but electronics in the tropics....I don't know.) Then at 4:00 Rose makes fruit smoothies of papaya and banana or mango. At 5:00 Morry serves us dinner which is a smidgen of whatever was for lunch. They believe supper should be very light and Nothing is eaten after supper. At 6:30 they watch a DVD. Sometimes I join them. First it was old Barney Miller episodes. Now we are working through four seasons of Touched by an Angel. At 7:30 Morry goes to bed and often so do I. Or I write some more and then sleep because at 4:30.....
I can see it's good for my system not to eat much at night. And the early morning schedule is good too. Part of the point of being here for two months is to have some of these things become habits that stick with me when I return to my own life. Your body does all of its healing and restorative processes - organ by organ - at different times in the night, starting at 10 p.m., so it's very important to be in a deep sleep by 10 p.m. or your body will skip those processes. So for healing, a crazy early night schedule and crazy early morning schedule are best. (Guthrie has been trying to tell me this for years and I just don't listen. He always comes and finds me at 7:30 thinking I should head to bed...)
These are such small things to say. So much is going on in my head and heart, and so many more experiences than these. Belize is wonderful for me.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Week One - Grateful
One Week! I've been in Belize one week. Suddenly today I thought to be grateful. It's been a partly overwhelming whirlwind - adjusting to living with people at all, and the rustic surrounds. The house is on solar energy so we use electricity only when it has been sunny. This is the rainy season, so that is not all of the time. There's also a generator used once a day to pump water into buckets in the house. Otherwise we carry water up from down below. The only source of water is rain collected in 10-foot wide, one story high tanks. The house is set on 10-foot concrete pillars, so we are high up. There are drains in the house for graywater, which goes out into the garden, but for bathrooms we use commodes, which pails we carry out several times a day to bury in a compost bed. Bathing too is out of a bucket. So, rustic. These details alone take a lot of time everyday.
I'm in the middle of a 7-day juicing cleanse. Days 2 and 3 were terrible. I felt very sick - which is supposed to happen. For the most part I sequester myself in my room. I don't have the energy for anything more. (I now recall to your mind the water hauling and compost burying in my weakened state...)
I am learning lessons of jungle living. Don't leave your towel on the line. It's not going to dry anyway in the humid air. I was fighting to go to sleep against the mad bird who lives on the tin roof and bams the metal and scolds me for sleeping "Aw! Aw!" he says with great disappointment. And I remembered two towels on the line on the back porch. I didn't care and slept in spite of the bird. This morning I shook the towels off as I took them from the line. But the tiny (or teensy would be appropriate here) ants each clung to a loop in the fabric and hung on like they were parasailing. I flopped the towels on the end of the bed and within minutes saw the error of my ways. Not the bed! I cried. I don't know how long I'll have to regret that. I have killed only about 7. (Not to say I have let any live - I have found only 7). Maybe most did not survive parasailing.
Belize is mounting into a wonderful adventure. I will tell you more when I am Grateful to be through this fast...
love Susan
I'm in the middle of a 7-day juicing cleanse. Days 2 and 3 were terrible. I felt very sick - which is supposed to happen. For the most part I sequester myself in my room. I don't have the energy for anything more. (I now recall to your mind the water hauling and compost burying in my weakened state...)
I am learning lessons of jungle living. Don't leave your towel on the line. It's not going to dry anyway in the humid air. I was fighting to go to sleep against the mad bird who lives on the tin roof and bams the metal and scolds me for sleeping "Aw! Aw!" he says with great disappointment. And I remembered two towels on the line on the back porch. I didn't care and slept in spite of the bird. This morning I shook the towels off as I took them from the line. But the tiny (or teensy would be appropriate here) ants each clung to a loop in the fabric and hung on like they were parasailing. I flopped the towels on the end of the bed and within minutes saw the error of my ways. Not the bed! I cried. I don't know how long I'll have to regret that. I have killed only about 7. (Not to say I have let any live - I have found only 7). Maybe most did not survive parasailing.
Belize is mounting into a wonderful adventure. I will tell you more when I am Grateful to be through this fast...
love Susan
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