I admit, I'm a little smug about telling people I took a "day trip" to another country. Most of the responses I get are of disbelief and the vibe is that most people think it's as cool as I do. But, I have been met with comments along the lines of "why?" and "what's the point?"
I get it. How much of another country's culture can I soak in during a few hours? Not much. It's a little taste, just a sip. And when the opportunity comes to immerse myself in the day to day lives of people and a lifestyle I don't know, I will most certainly take it! But here's the point. I've worked really hard to create a freedom in my life that allows me to visit Belize for 20 hours. I've rearranged my career, relationships, and financial security in exchange for the opportunity to say I stood on the coast of another country just to watch sunrise. And like the Belize currency exchange, 50 cents on the dollar is a hard bargain. Sometimes 20 hours just isn't enough. But for every bit of effort I've put into living my life this way, I am doubly blessed with loving support and luck that allows this lifestyle. And because of that I refuse not to take advantage of every chance offered to me to travel and discover this adventurous life.
In the day I was offered to explore Belize we sat by a light house at sunset and watched local children play in the park as their family prepared a picnic feast. We walked by the open doors of churches and were reminded that Sundays are meant for rest and replenishment. Consequently, this also meant only one restaurant was open for dinner; a menu of burgers and beers. The overly polite and timid waitress shed her barely audible voice as she served the locals next to us, but kept a bowed head at our table.
At dark Christmas lights came on, and music and laughter floated from front porches and backyards, fenced in with scraps of metal and wire. Our guest house proprietor apologized for leaving us to wait at the door step, her young employing was late... island time. I thought she had overcharged us for our room until I realized the receipt was written using Belize Dollars. 8 o'clock found us in bed, and 6 AM had us walking down a quiet street to watch sunrise.
The world lightened, a man on a bike stopped near us and began tossing a hand line into the ocean, breakfast I imagine. Several couples jogged around an open air market and amphitheater. Eduardo greeted us "Hello, single ladies" just as he had the evening before. "Jerry Louis" called out to us by name reminding us that we had a cab ride arranged and he wouldn't be late. Breakfast was light, but oh man, the coffee was good! The light house was our backrest and the waves eased us into what was about to become the Monday morning hustle.
We dipped in and out of shops, jumping through honking vehicles to cross streets. Uniformed school girls waved and giggled and a slew of homeless men lay on sidewalks. We were given directions based on corners and bridges, the street names on our maps never showed up on signs. The swinging bridge opened to tidy rows of ocean weathered sail boats, and a bay side shop toting the sign "Drums not Guns". A girl at the fruit stand urged us to try several tart fruits I couldn't pronounce and then added a generous scoop of spices and salt to the bag we purchases.
We left Belize the way we came, walking passed the calls of propositions for a "Taxi?" "No? Helicopter?" Most people smiled, many said hello. The cab bumped down noisy roads of construction. Pickups full of fresh coconuts stood by, an aardvark ran through the brush in the corner of my eye. And all of a sudden we were back in an airport, buying stickers that said "Better Belize It" because, part of me, no, could not believe it.
