Home Sweet Home

4/29/11

Belize City is Out and San Ignacio is In.

Belize City is obviously where the greatest need is in terms of HELP’s mission statement. But the mission statement probably would like for the volunteers to be alive, not raped, and sober. Ergo, Belize City is out, and today we drove out to Belmopan (the capital) and on to San Ignacio. As we pulled into Belmopan, we all immediately felt more at ease. I mean, all the attractions of Belize City are there (the stray dogs, the abandoned buildings), but it’s a much cleaner city. We met with a humanitarian partner and some peace corps volunteers to start getting some projects rolling when our volunteers arrive. Note to self: marry a guy who will abandon everything and join the peace corps with me. 

I took a walk around some shops and had the thought “Belize is so nice; as a VERY conspicuous foreigner, I haven’t even gotten one cat-call yet.” Not a moment later, a carload of men drove by whistling.

Then, we came home. San Ignacio is IT! It’s small and safe, has a ton of established partnerships for our organization, and is close to some of the best Mayan ruins and other attractions. The men are still flirtatious and you still get followed, but on the whole it’s a great place to live and I totally feel comfortable having our 30 volunteers based here. 

I really thought I would blend in much more here in Central America than I have in my past travels—that is false. Apparently, I’m not nearly brown enough to be considered local, and not nearly yellow enough to be believably Japanese. So I’ve got 4 months to brown up (and get a perma-Chaco tan). 

Belizeans are incredibly friendly! Maybe I’m overstating it because I’m in a small town, but people always return hello’s with a smile, and it’s not uncommon for them to approach and greet you. Compared with people glancing at your missionary tag and pretending they don’t hear you, this is a nice change. 

The LDS church branch is small and more than half are recent converts. Retention is hard in Belize because the church is not as established as it is in El Salvador or Guatemala, but I was impressed with the members’ hospitality when I showed up solo at their building. I suppose I would be hospitable as well if I saw today’s Sunday School teacher walking through the chapel doors. The relief society president, Sister Moreno, walks 5 miles each way to church and makes the trip at least 3 times a week for meetings. After running that stupid marathon, walking 5 miles sounds like the most miserable experience to me (did I mention I don’t run anymore?). 

They say the national language of Belize is English, but all you really hear is (a) Creole, or (b) Spanglish. Our life line here is Sister Kay, the adoptive mother to the missionaries and our potential cook. Her creole accent is as thick as her stewed chicken and her humor is borderline abrasive, so you can imagine how well we get along ;) She’s a hoot and takes good care of us. The first thing she said to me was not hello, but “SO TINY!” (she’s a big lady), and the second thing was “Why they let a girl be the director??” She’s giving me creole lessons and keeping me sane with all the country preparation stress before our volunteers arrive (May 4!!).

Some random highlights:

• Belmopan fair! We got to meet tons of other humanitarian groups and made great contacts. We also ate great steak and drank great water from green coconuts. It was great.
• Finding a beautiful house right in the center of town for our volunteers to live in. I think I developed 3-4 ulcers in the house-hunting adventure, but it’s over!
• Street cooking. 3 tacos for $1 BZ (50 cents US) and no immediate repercussions …
• Huge forest fire (the most efficient and considerate way to clear land for use) created a cloud over our town, meaning the temperature was a good 10 degrees lower. Thank you, deforestation. 

Unbelizable.

4/29/11

Here we go again! The next chapter in the Megan-Swan-Is-Too-Scared-To-Settle-Down travel series brings us to beautiful Belize. I really should start a blog or something but my team already has one at http://belize.help-international.org/

Or my co-director, Kyle, brought his wife who is also keeping a blog on our adventures at sundanceromance.blogspot.com 

But for my own peace of mind and just to tickle my creative side, I’ll be sending my own side of the story to you guys. Delete the emails at will, but next time you are about to check Facebook you might think to yourself, “Hey, I wonder what Meg is doing down in Belize…”

Right now, I’m sitting on a rooftop balcony in San Ignacio, Belize. The palm trees are sifting through the heavy jungle air and the sun is beginning to break through the smoke-filled sky (there was a huge forest fire yesterday). This place is perfectly picturesque--from the church on the hill (whose bells ring incessantly every morning at six sharp for a full hour) to the hodgepodge of colorful stucco homes crammed between the makeshift shanties, Belize has proven to be both eye candy and positively depressing in the same glance.

I landed in Belize City on Thursday, greeted by “Jesus is our Lord” spray-painted across a crumbling cement hotel, the first visible building from the airport. We spent our first day scrambling around the city in an old Chevy van Kyle is leasing. I was so glad that he was driving because he’s driven in Mexico, Chile and Peru and understands how nuts Latino drivers are. I couldn’t believe just how dirty, crowded, and (for lack of a better term) ghetto Belize City is. A traveler we met could only describe Belize City as “ugly”, and I soon found out why. We were told not to go out at night in the city because after 7 all the gangs roll out, and naturally a tourist is a two-legged bull’s-eye. It’s pretty typical of what you would expect from a large and poverty-stricken city—burnt out buildings, 3-4 people performing balancing acts on bicycles, and  malnourished dogs roaming the streets. Until we got to the market street, I was surprised to see almost no women and children—just crowds of men. 

A few bright spots in the dark city: Belize was once a British colony and still pays tribute to the Queen—this means that Belize has Cadbury chocolate, McVitties Digestive cookies, and Hob-nobs. Happiness. The other ray of light is the fruit stands! Pineapples and bananas are strung across the open stand, and you can buy all sorts of indigenous fruit: mangos, bananas, citrus, and mami (like a papaya crossed with an avocado).

Before the sun went down, we decided to leave the comfort and warmth of the city to find what Belize is known for: white beaches and crystal blue water. We didn’t find either. A few miles out of Belize City is Cucumber beach, a used-to-be happening tourist attraction before the huge storm of 1969 that wiped out most of the city and caused the capital to be moved inland to Belmopan. The water was brown and the cabanas trashed, but it was still refreshing to see the ocean before heading back to the jaws of the city. Ok I’m making the city sound a lot worse than it actually was.

Highlights of Belize City:

• Manatee debuts floating down the river next to the place we stayed
• Surviving driving while sharing the road with frantic cars, bicyclists, and dogs
• Kyle forgetting $2000 US and both he and his wife’s passports when we left
• The first sweet sounds of Belizean Créole
• Our neighbor’s dog perched on the roof all day (keeping a close watch on their laundry)
• Ben & Jerry’s ice cream can be found in Belize! One pint for just $12 USD! A steal of a deal.

Belize Isn't in Africa?

Upon telling people my summer plans to go offer humanitarian aid in Belize, I was usually met with one of the following responses:

• "No way! I think my cousin went on his mission there! He loved Europe." 
• "Belize? I've never been to Africa before. . . "
• (after a long puzzled stare) ". . .Oh, that's cool." 

Well, here I am in sunny San Ignacio, living in a country whose population is about the size of the Provo/Orem, UT area. For those of you who didn't wiki 'Belize' upon reading this, the commonwealth nation of  Belize is the farthest north country of central America, wedged between Mexico and Guatemala.

I'll be living here for the next four months as a country director for HELP International, a Utah-based non-profit. Volunteers and interns come out for anywhere from 6 weeks to 4 months to work on humanitarian projects in (1) healthcare, (2) education, and (3) entrepreneurship.

I'll paste in all the emails I've sent to the family and see how well I actually upkeep this. I've never been a blogger and am only sending this link to the Swan family, but I figure y'all will all appreciate this more than my email bombardments, (especially with mom and dad's Malaysian adventures coming to our inboxes as well).