December 27th, 2004: The Four Days In Belize
For the Spanish conquerors, Belize was a backwater having nothing to offer but its harvestable logwood. In the 17th century, English and Scottish pirates noticed Belize's potential as a base for attacking Spanish ships transporting the riches from South America to Europe. When Spain convinced Britain to clamp down on illegal activities, the unemployed pirats first went to the logwood business, and when this collapsed due to the invention of synthetic dyes, into mahogany trading. When the mahogany trade was killed by the African competition, the next specialization turned out to be in guns supplied to Mayan rebels in Yucatan, later in drugs smuggled from South to North America, and finally in tourism and agriculture.
While the Creoles - descendants of the African slaves and British pirates - still make up Belize's largest ethnic group, the crisis in Yucatan brought in mestizos and Mayas, opportunity brought in Chinese, and the original Indian population mixed with Africans, forming a smiling Garifuna ethnic group. Everybody lives together peacefully. In shops, markets, petrol stations, and other local businesses, one hears mainly Spanish and Chinese, while the government employees and tough selling tourist industry people tend to speak the exotic Creole.
Our first contact with Belize is not a particularly pleasent one. Belize is the first and last Central American country we need a visa to enter to. Nobody seems to be working today at the border. After a while a Sir with golden chains appears, and commands "Wait outside!", without a hello. It smells coffee behind the closed door, some people enter, chat, and come out again. Finally, we may enter. The official asks where we came from. So we say, from Guatemala. Then he asks, where we are going. So we say, to Belize. Holding our passports, the official asks, what nationality we are.
After we learned a lot from each other, we pay an entry fee of USD 25 per person. "You have one month in the country, you will pay a departure fee before you leave!" Next, we try to find someone who could check in our car. Nobody seems to be working today. After a while a Sir with golden chains appears. When we are done, we walk out of the icy office into the burning sun. Someone tries to sell me golden chains, mentionning something about potentially throwing some rocks at our car. Nearby, a guy changing money tries to cheat a man from Guatemala. It smells fight. We start the engine, and enter Belize.
The landscape is beautiful. Turquoise blue rivers, hills covered with lush tropical forest. Huge ceiba trees, mahogany, cohune palms, guanacaste. Endless orange plantations. The wooden houses shine with somewhat special combinations of colors: bright green with brown, orange with violet. People wear bright colors and swing in the hammocks. We arrive at the town of Dangriga, with its wooden houses in wild western style and loads of big old American cars. We buy a nice papaya from a Chinese which will turn out to be the sweetest we ever tasted. A lady with a rosa T-short, high rosa shoes, a sophisticated haircut, a baby girl in rosa dress in one hand, a dreamy boy in the other, comes from the station. I find myself smiling at the romantic picture. The lady smiles back. Then the boy does the mistake to step on the mother's rosa shoe. The fine lady goes pink: "What the f..ck are you doing!! Stop the f..ck! F..ck!!"..
We drive to the laid back Garifuna villages in the South. At Hopkins, we find what we expected: big smiling mamas, plenty of kids, a fisher bringing his boat home on an iridescent blue water, a relaxed atmosphere.. As the moon rises, we start to understand the wolves' howling.
No Photoshop applied!
In the morning, I go jogging on the red road between the sea and a lake some kilometers from Hopkins. The colors on both sides change with every minute.
I choose the sea side for a bath, wondering if one could walk to the island opposite in the shallow waters. I read David Landes' "The Wealth and Poverty of Nations". Mathias works on his PhD. A Canadian car stops by, a German walks out. Thomas has had enough of paying taxes in Germany and went travelling for a year, starting in Canada. He tells us about the North, we tell him about the Central.
On the following day it starts raining and the sandflies show up. I did not realize Carribean can be this cold. In the northern Orange province, in full sugar cane harvest, the weather is better but only for a while. When we pay another innovative fee for crossing a 5 meters bridge, we decide to leave for Mexico. Bye, bye, Belize..
