Memories of Belize

Caribbean adventures offer glimpses of simple lifestyles and a full escape from what might be a tedious routine at home sometimes. People of Ambergris Caye, (located on the coast of Belize, formerly called British Honduras), mostly live in small colorful, somewhat shaky structures. These houses have extraordinary gardens flourishing and climbing around the perimeters, up over porch roofs, an abundance of growth beautifying and delightful. They appear to be places were the people overflow into yards and streets, where life becomes a free flowing interaction with whoever crosses one another's path. Even a tourist with open mind and heart is met with friendly smiles and greetings most of the time. Eighty percent of the people living in Belize are from some other place, which means anyone can be either a stranger or a new acquaintance.

The flora everywhere is exquisite, among gardens neglected or meticulously cared for and roadside bountiful growth of tropical plant varieties. We traveled quietly and without fumes, open air, in a rented electric golf cart from one end (beginning with the South), to the other of the Island, even crossing a swift moving current of an inlet on a tiny ferry boat pulled by hand across, then eventually back again to our hotel. Even the island dump was a sight seeing event, loaded with bird watching opportunities and lizards. Informed by the man working at the gate to keep a look out, we hoped to see an alligator (or would it have been a crocodile?) but weren’t terribly disappointed not to get close to any. There were a multitude of beaches to stop and explore, to walk the lengths selecting pretty shells, cool waters to swim or loll in with lots of colorful fish coming in close to nibble at our toes.

Sunsets were dazzling over the Tiki bar, Squirrel's Nest, located on the sands adjacent to the Banana Beach Resort. The lovely woman bartender from Belize City who'd been in Ambergris Caye five years now, laughed easily and often, making all three of us feel welcome as if we were her guests there by personal invitation. Her wicked but perfect margarita recipe: Fresh squeezed lime and lemon juice, tequila and triple sec, light salt, no ice (my personal preference.)

One stroll down the beach at dusk toward town located an evening's dinner not far from the hotel. Our appetites were strong from a full day of sightseeing that included several miles of walking and catamaran sailing. Served in a gazebo over the water at Ricco's, the shrimp scampi was quite good but the setting made it divine! Moonlit turquoise waters at our feet, fish seeking their own morsels to dine upon below us in clear view. A dog, brown spots on white, short-haired and skinny came begging quite politely, at least Alisa and I thought him courteous. John held out and refused him delicacies, the scraps from his steak, (the only food the dog had any real interest) in before the waiter chased him off.

San Pedro, the main town of Ambergris Caye had plenty shops and galleries to explore for a full week of pleasure even if you don’t take advantage of SCUBA dives or rent a catamaran like we were able to enjoy. I even got a cheap but excellent hair cut. A lovely Puerto Rican lady with a son in the US Army, has a salon just south of the main part of town. No one in NYC or Philadelphia would have given us better or friendlier service. While John and Alisa had their hair cuts I enjoyed looking at paintings and prints offered for sale in a gallery next to the salon. The gallery owner (originally from Cape Cod), supplied free and interesting bits of information about each artist who's work was exhibited filling the time most pleasantly. My favorite item was a print of Toucans and tropical vegetation done by a successful artist who reminded me of our visit to the Belize Zoo and the huge bird I'd managed to get close enough to feed from my fingertips through the wires of his cage.

Early into our week in Belize John wheedled me into a dive shop although I’d sworn our daughter was too young to try SCUBA diving. We met a nephew of the owner of Ramon’s who assured me that all I need worry about was myself, that he would take care of Alisa. Looking at him I must admit he inspired complete confidence in his ability to do just that, and it didn’t hurt that I believed him when he confessed he began diving at the same age as she happened to be at the time, eleven. We set an appointment for eleven a.m. the following day to meet at the pool and begin our “resort dive course.” Acclimating fairly quickly to the tank and breathing underwater in the pool I felt the dozen years slip away since I’d become open-water certified down in Mexico before Alisa was born.

By afternoon we were game to take a trip out to the reef and there escorted underwater by Gil in a shallow dive were the water was sun warmed I enjoyed one of the best dive experiences in my life thus far. Alisa was in heaven as well and watching her experience fearlessly the underwater paradise was a precious gift to me as well. We swam with little harmless sharks, colorful fishes of such diversity, saw two electric eels in a debate apparently about which one should get to be in a certain miniature underwater cave. Alisa and I each held a delicate long legged purple shrimp-like creature in our hand for a moment thanks to Gil. He pointed out delightful sea creatures and shells in a fantasy of color as we effortlessly swam among them, breathing happily all the time underwater, an experience which will never cease to thrill me whenever the chance arises. (One caveat to this statement; it must be in waters where visibility exceeds the distance stretching your hand out in front of you by quite a few yards!)

As our week wore it’s way to an end we made a day trip via “water taxi” to Belize City (in a forty foot open fishing type craft with three enormous Mercury outboard engines which roared across the ocean pounding waves through rainfall making the occupants huddle under tarps and fully appreciate American personal hygiene), which was very worthwhile. I could see from under the tarps (and breath fresh air), an amazing array of islands large and small, some developed to varying extent, others vacant of human occupants. All these were passing by in open waters until we zigzagged through inlets and finally into the colorful Port of Belize City. We were just in time for sunshine hot enough to make steam rise off the streets from the recent rainfall. Dozens of brightly painted canoes used for diving for lobster carved from a single tree floated alongside larger vessels, men wearing bright bandanas and colorful attire working aboard flashing smiles when noticed made the frenetic liveliness and noise of the port surreal after the quiet motion found in Ambergris the last five days.

We took a taxi to a car rental agency on the outskirts of Belize City and I coaxed John into upgrading to a four-wheel drive Isuzu so we could go anyplace no matter how large the pot-holes (this idea was based upon experiences had exploring via the golf cart on Ambergris and a fundamental desire to get where we were going and back again!) The countryside was fabulously decorated with more tiny cottages where chickens, dogs, goats and children ran around unfettered by fences and speed bumps appear out of nowhere in the road forcing anyone to reduce acceleration or be bounced right off the bloody roadway.

The mountains looked more like gangling hills dark with vegetation, rising out of the plains into clouds which moved rapidly across the region. We passed miles of fields and came to orange groves where I was captivated by the sight of a man, black as ebony, white turban around his head, bare chest, wearing some sort of ancient style draped pants that hung from his hips. I don’t frequently stare at men, but this guy striding alongside the trees carrying a machete looked like he could have existed more than a thousand years ago exactly as he was right then and there. When he turned his head and caught my eye he grinned a wide brilliant smile and I knew he didn’t mind or think me bad mannered.

We kept on up the wide red clay road into the rain forest where there were large open structures built to provide cover for picnic tables, a huge parking lot where tour buses parked and signs leading to lavatories. It was pretty peculiar to hit a tourist trap in the middle of what had seemed so unspoiled and wide open country, however as tourist traps go this wasn’t too bad.

Men chestnut brown like they’ve lived their whole lives in tropical sun approached us selling their services as guides, bidding prices for our little private group of three. Louis shooed everyone else away from us and made an offer we agreed upon. He would not only guide us among the wild vegetation, point out edible varieties, ensure our safety and privacy, he would share with us history of Mayan heritage and his knowledge of all that lay before us to explore for a few hours under his tutelage. Turned out he had a B.S. of Science from an American university in New England and really was an enthusiastic environmentalist!

We recruited inner-tubes and spelunking flashlights, stowed our gear and headed up the trail led by Louis chatting every step of the way in his high energy personable style flooding us with insight and information about the indigenous people and the rain forest. He was as full of good humor as he was energy, and made our trek fabulous throughout. In the river he walked alongside our tubes pushing or pulling as needed, keeping us away from rocks and other people, gallantly concerned every second of the trip as if our lives depended upon his watchfulness. I have never experienced any one who took their work any more seriously than did Louis. When we parted he gave me his business card in hopes we would one day meet again or at least communicate via the internet. Regrettably I have not yet done so however it will never be too late to touch base again, not with Louis, he made us certain of that.

Unfortunately a tight budget prevented me from splurges in any of the shops this trip. (And I so wanted the pair of wrap around pants made from hand-woven Guatemalan fabric in sunset colors!) Instead we have wonderful photographs capturing many of the sights enjoyed, a number of shells added to my ever-growing collection and a small but brilliant feather from the Toucan at the Belize Zoo! It was enough to return with these and my priceless memories, to have spent such a delightful time exploring parts of Belize, meeting wonderful people from all over the world, in a land capable of stealing at least a part of your heart from wherever you call "home."