Lamanai

Lindsey and I decided last weekend to head up to Orange Walk District to visit Lamanai, a former Mayan civilization site, one of the 13 Mayan ruins in Belize. Occupied from at least 15 centuries prior to the Common Era, it also was home to Spanish and English settlers. Our tour guide said that even though archeologists have been working steadily there since the 1970s, it is estimated that they will need 800 years to fully uncover all that Lamanai has to offer. So far they have uncovered several temples, a ball court and some royal bedrooms. It is also home to a crew of howling monkeys that sound eerily like the dinosaurs from Jurassic Park.

Lindsey and I climbed up one of the temples, practically on our hands and knees on the way up and butt-scooting on the way down. Gravity was not going to take us down. After we had climbed back down, our guide admitted that someone had fallen to their death on another of the temples. I am very glad I learned that afterwards because I would not have climbed up otherwise. My legs are still in pain so I am fairly certain that Mayans had some wicked strong thighs. If you look at the picture on the right, the purple person is Lindsey on her way down.

Lamanai means Submerged Crocodile in Mayan so we were on the lookout during our river tour; however, we only saw two. I am assuming that all the tourism has pushed them away from the main canals. The one I took a picture was being fed by a local restaurant and could easily have been 10 feet long. But it had no teeth and was probably 65 years old so it was less scary and more sad. We also saw some other kind of monkey (non-howler monkey?) that we fed bananas. One of them grabbed the banana then wrapped his tail around a branch and hung upside down while eating, staring at us the entire time.

This was my last trip anywhere before I take the big one home in 9 days. All that is left on my plate is my final deliverables. Wish me luck!

Unexpected Beauty

My final week in Dangriga was hugely successful. I was able to meet with a number of women, some more opinionated than others. Some who not only provided commentary on their communities but had ideas on how to serve their neighbors, friends and families. The highlight of the week was actually outside of my project. Thanks to Peacework dude, Jeff, and his friend, Tiger, I was invited to attend a traditional Garifuna ceremony that honors their ancestors. It’s similar to my idea of Halloween, respecting and honoring the dead. We came to the Garifuna temple which was inside a house-sized wooden building with large windows all around as well as a single door. There was a crowd outside, looking in while inside there were a number of people, dressed in colorful checkered clothes, with their heads covered. The inside crowd faces three drummers and a single man with a mariachi shaker. The crowd shifts through dance to each cardinal direction and the drummers and shaker bend to the ground, as if they are playing to those below. The ritual takes about 45 minutes. Apparently they do this all day every day for a week. At some point, they also either kill a set of roosters and either bury them whole or just the blood. These roosters have to have some black feathers which corresponds to the fact that no one participating or watching can wear black. I don’t think I am describing it very well but I didn’t take pictures out of respect. I can only say, it was a beautiful experience and I am glad I got to share with Jeff and another new friend, William James.

A fun little highlight was seeing President Obama in an unusual way. I didn’t get to see him in person or share the same breathing space like my classmate Dimas did. Nor am I actively counting seeing his image on objects like my Belize-mate Olivia. But on my drive back to Belize City from Dangriga, we stopped to get gas from a “gas station”. This gas station was really just a store with gas cans available for passing vehicles. The man who was pouring the gas had this watch on. It was the most entertaining celebration of the President I have ever seen in a country that has more varieties than I have ever seen.

Oh boy, am I a terrible blogger! It’s just so hard for me to encapsulate my experiences into words and pictures but there have been complaints so here is an update, three weeks late.

I did indeed return to Punta Gorda for a phenomenally successful trip which began with my flight down on the smallest plane I have ever been on. I had to take a plane because the rains had flooded the bridge that I would have passed over. To be fair, it isn’t a very high bridge so the floods didn’t have to work very hard. I am, however, grateful for the rain because they brought me to the tiny airplane. As some of you know, I have a life to-do list and learning to fly is on it. After this experience, I definitely want to learn right away. Two weeks after my first experience, I got to go up again and this time I sat up next to the pilot. I actually asked him if he needed any help flying but he seemed too concerned with my lack of qualifications to allow me. Naysayers.

While in Punta Gorda, I drove around the villages near and far with Nurse Paulina Cus from the Belize Family Life Association, interviewing anyone who would let us. My favorite part was sitting in the back of the truck which Ms. Lindsey says is very Arkansas of me.

Nurse Cus also spoke at a women’s health workshop on sexually transmitted diseases and cancers along with others who spoke of diabetes, hypertension, and domestic abuse; the big issues in these communities. A little background on the Mayan communities in the Toledo district (where Punta Gorda is): There are actually two major Mayan populations whose ancestors come from different directions. One speaks Kekchi Mayan and the other speaks Mopan. Kekchi are the majority of this minority and live closer to Punta Gorda, relatively. The Mopan tend to live a little farther. Besides a difference in language, there are also subtle differences in clothing and professions. Of course, to me, it was all Greek. At the end of my week, I was reluctant to go. I really enjoyed my time and my project could have just focused on these communities and I still wouldn’t have had enough time to understand the cultural intricacies but I must move on.

And move on I did, to Dangriga, situated in the middle of the eastern coast, approximately 2 hours north of Punta Gorda and 2 hours south of Belize City (not the capital). Staying at the enormous Peacework house, I am surrounded by neighbors who are well used to crazy visitors who stay for short periods of time. One of the first nights here I was invited to listen to some traditional Garifuna music which is the population I am here to survey. Garifuna music is heavy on drums and the dancing is a thing to see. It involves shaking parts of my body that just don’t shake well independently of the rest of my body (aka my butt). I’m still working on it.

As my project didn’t start immediately, I also took this time to start the process of mastering watermelon juice which Ms. Olivia and I think is a fine delicacy of Belize. Unfortunately, I started this process under the misapprehension that the house had a blender which it did not. So I had to hand-smoosh the watermelon which left a lot of pieces. BUT it was still delicious. Next time I’m using a blender though.

I also used this time to visit Placienca which is a Belizean peninsula that is a tourist attraction. And, as we found out, an expat attraction too. Ms. Olivia, Ms. Lindsey and I met to celebrate mine, Olivia’s and America’s birthday (all on separate days but in that chronological order). We had a delightful time and loved running into expats everywhere as well as the lovely tourists including a huge entourage of Alabama people.

So, now you all have been updated. I have been reading quite a bit but not at the rate that I normally do. I strongly suggest Rory Stewart’s The Places In Between which was suggested to my class by the fabulous Stuart Jones who visited our school last semester. Also, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver is an excellent book for the conscious consumer. It makes this vegetarian consider being a locavore.

Poor Decisions & Teacher's Day

My last few days in Punta Gorda flew by. I spent a lot of time in the Belize Family Life Association office, speaking with the patients that visited. In the end, however, I did not get enough interviews collected to be a quality survey so I will have to return. I'm actually looking forward to it. I really love spending time with Nurse Cus and Danica. On my last day in the office, a gentleman stopped by and sat in the waiting room who I will refer to as Uncle Cas (I have no idea if that's his name or not). For several hours, he spoke about world history, his personal history, race, politics, poverty, sex and life in Belize vs the States. Mind you, he wasn't actually talking to anyone. He was talking to himself. At times, the rest of the office was talking to each other and he just kept on talking. And at times, I found myself agreeing him. I am still not sure if that means that I too will someday be walking around town, entering random offices and talking to myself but I certainly enjoyed myself.

On my departure from PG, I woke at the ungodly hour of 4 am, kissed my beautiful air-conditioned bedroom good-bye and climbed on board of a bus with teachers (where I saw 6 people wearing Obama shirts) heading to Belmopan for Teacher's Day. I was excited for two reasons: 1)I was meeting Ms. Olivia, and 2)I love Teacher's Days. I experienced 2 in Ukraine and as my friend Cameron reminded me, they are hard to remember through the "celebrating". I wondered what the Belizean version looked like. It ended up looking like an information fair/marketplace. There were booths like Ms. Olivia's Youth Business Trust, providing opportunities for students and teachers and there were booths selling things that had nothing to do with education. There was also a presentation and speeches by the Prime Minister. And it was hot. Very hot. We were sitting under thatch but I still managed to get a little pink. Again.

When we arrived back in Belize City, Ms. Olivia and I decided to go to the movies at the Princess Hotel. Not knowing what was playing, we decided to just see what was happening. What was happening was the horror flick "Drag Me To Hell". Let me paint you a picture of how we reacted: Two girls, one in the fetal position, the other hiding behind her hoodie, screaming, lots of screaming. It's not a particuarly inventive movie but there are a lot of things jumping out at you and grossness, so much grossness. We couldn't return home immediately either. We had to stay at the hotel for a few hours, entertaining ourselves in the bar until we could gather the courage to go out into the dark.

On the homefront, I want to thank Ms. Lauren Schafer for her innovative method of keeping me up-to-date with her life. The Facebook videos are so adorable and I do have admit that you do look to be the best cook in the world. I look forward to experience your creations.

This last Thursday, I went to visit a few local Mayan communities near Punta Gorda to talk about reproductive health, accompanied by Ms. Adelia Ishim (a picture of her is on the left with her 2 year old daughter) who served as my guide and interpreter. I also had Flat with me as well but she only made a few appearances since most people didn't want to take a picture with her. I had dutifully prepared a pair of surveys that would be able to collect qualitative and quantitative information however once confronted with the individuals I was meeting with, those carefully arranged surveys went out the window. We stopped by only 5 villages but it took all day since they are all fairly far apart, the farthest being about 1.5 hours away from Punta Gorda. The houses had mostly thatch roofs; some were raised off the ground and had had wooden floors while others had dirt floors. The most modern had concrete floors, electricity and had more electronics than I have (computer, TV, DVD player, PSP). Most had pigs and chickens running around. Inside, most had a hearth for cooking and had a number of hammocks for beds although a couple had wood slate beds. I think I would have preferred the hammocks to the bed though. The age ranged from 26-46 years old and the number of children, from 2-10 children each and all spoke a variation of Kekchi Mayan. The level of knowledge varied from an almost perfect recitation of a women’s training to an understanding of contraceptives. As we asked questions and did a little inadvertent education, it became quite apparent that myths and misinformation were complicating their understanding. Pap smears were dreaded since they were viewed as a way for the doctor to take away their ability to have children. Pregnancy tests weren’t wanted because women didn’t want to know. I even ran across a growing belief that contraceptives are a tool to destroy the Mayan culture. However, most of the women had their most recent children at the hospital because they knew of the dangers home births can have. Home birth descriptions were also varying from having a skilled birth attendant/midwife to a female relative helping with the birth and the husband cutting the cord. This might all seem like I am revealing the results of my interviews but there was so much more I learned about these women that will only be for the use of the Belize Family Life Association. I have another day of village interviews planned for some Mopan Mayan communities and I look forward to seeing the differences between the cultures.

On a different beat, I have found yet another reason why I love Belize: garnaches. I am not a cook and will never pretend to be as good as Ms. Olivia or Ms. Teresa (my favorite friend cooks) but I am an appreciator of deliciousness and this common street food has surpassed everything I have eaten so far here (and many good things have entered my accomplished stomach thus far). I wish I had taken a picture but alas, you will have to deal with my description. It is a fried tortilla that resembles an enormous chip with refried beans smothered over it with cheese, cabbage and Belizean ketchup (which you would know is different than ketchup in the States if you had read Ms. Lindsey’s earlier blog). It does appear to be related to nachos (in name and appearance) but it is far superior. They are delicious! If you are ever near a Belizean restaurant, I highly suggest you get some. Another unexpected delight are the Ideals whose signs have amused me (Ideals for Sale) however they are actually bags of melted popsicles and they are yummy. Children often pick them up from street vendors for 25 BZ (the equivalent of 12.5 cents).

After a 5 hour bus ride south, I have arrived in Punta Gorda in the Toledo region. June 1^st is the official start of the rainy season so I was nervous on the entire trip that I would be on a bus, stuck on some muddy road in the middle of Belize. Fortunately, the rain gods held off until the morning after my arrival. And boy did they!!!! I woke to the house shaking. At first, I thought I was in another earthquake but it was due to the tremendous thunder. I haven’t been in a storm like that since living in Lincoln during tornado season in the early 90s. I have been here two days and each day I have woken to these storms. Afterwards, defying logic, it is even hotter than before. I know it has to do with humidity but I don’t like it. Not one bit. In my mind, it rains, it cools.

In the few days I have been here, I have met with some phenomenal individuals. The BFLA nurse, Nurse Paulina Cus, has really dedicated herself to serving the community. She has even started traveling to neighboring communities to better serve those who don’t understand their health needs. Senator Pulcheria Teul is the first Mayan Belizean Senator and a WOMAN!!! She is the executive director of the Toledo Maya Women’s Council as well. I am staying with Carmen Lopez who works for the Ministry of Education, is getting her doctorate in the States and is raising at least 5 children and relatives (they are hard to count because they are constantly in motion). If I could be half of these women, I would feel like I have accomplished something.

Punta Gorda itself is a very interesting community. There are tourists and expats everywhere I look, the ocean is just right there and people are just soooo relaxed. Shopkeepers have no qualms in stopping business (and the line) to start telling you where you need to visit in the area, hospitals nurses will stop to talk about the benefits of public health and the Senator will take an afternoon to explain the region’s politics and discriminations.

On a home note, Ms. Ally Letsky will soon to heading off on a new adventure as well. Teach for America has wisely recognized her immense talents and she will be teaching Communication Arts in Kansas City. If you know Ally, you know she is an expert in Communication Arts in every capacity so I know her students will really benefit from her. Unfortunately, that does mean she is leaving Operation Breakthrough but she doesn’t know how to give up on those she loves, so I am sure she will still be there for her OB students like the infamous Gwen. And for those of you who know both of us, Ally and I have managed to figure out how to text each other, even in Belize. So, we are officially at almost five years of uninterrupted conversation.

BOOKS!!!!!!!!!!

I just finished two books, the Gomorrah by Robert Saviano and The Book Thief by Marcus Zusak. I am kind of kicking myself for finishing them because I still have another week in PG but I’ll figure it out.

Gomorrah was an interesting commentary on the state of the Naples Mafia however at times it just felt like a list of names and towns. I wish there had been an index of some kind to keep them all straight. Saviano also hints at his own moral development based on his relationship with these people yet it isn’t quite as eloquent as it could be. There is just a bit about his father and then at the end something about how he feels bound to the area. Of course it might have all been lost in translation. Saviano does do a good job of describing some of my favorite places like the dock and the fierce strength of the women and I can see why the book’s publication required him to be placed in protected custody. Overall I would endorse this book for anyone interested in a little history of the area but don’t let it color your opinion of the area. I lived in the area during some of the time frame he discusses and my best friend still lives there safely. It is a beautiful city with a lot of love and hospitality and will always hold a special place in my heart. If I ever win the lottery, you know where I will be.

In contrast, The Book Thief is a beautiful book about a topic that many have written about. The hero is a little German girl during WWII who is dealing with the death of her young brother, the abandonment of her mother, the adjustment of living with her foster parents and learning to read. In the course of the book, there is a Jew hidden in her basement, she falls in love and learns to steal books. And all of it is narrated by Death. It is now one my favorite books of all time (thanks Megan for giving it to me). I think I could read it a thousand times and find a new way of loving it each time. I am a sucker for books written about children during historical trials because they often see things adults don’t and this heroine is running over puberty so she has the added perspective of a budding adult. I endorse this so much that I wish the Clinton School did another list of recommended books after our IPSPs so that I can turn more people on to it. For those of you care about that sort of thing, the book has won numerous literary prizes as well as being on the New York Times bestseller list for ages. On the back cover, there is quote saying that it should be taught alongside the Diary of Anne Frank and I would be compelled to agree even if it is fiction.

And just for reference sake, I got both of these images for the peerless Amazon.com where you can purchase these books for quality prices.