As expected, the rain lifted for a bit and I was able to head out to Cahal Pech and check out some ruins. I will say though that the hill you have to climb to even get to the entrance almost had me down for the count. Remember back when I was trying to catch the Eurostar out of Brussels and I said my calves burned with the fire of a thousand stair stepper repetitions as I maneuvered the labyrinth that was the train platform? Yeah. This was twice as bad. When I reached the top I couldn't even purchase a ticket until I had caught my breath because I literally couldn't even form words. Sounds are all I could manage to get out. I was like Raj in the presence of any female with the addition of mouth breathing.
So there I am staring in a clinically insane way at a nice individual just trying to do their job while I'm trying to pull my life together. This seems to be becoming a habit for me. You win, hill. The ruins were pretty neat though.
That was just one section. Then I climbed to the top of this one
I bet you were expecting a picture from the top, yeah? Except all you could see where the trees surrounding the joint from the top. So. Instead you get a selfie of me after maneuvering my way down. The girls would be proud- I used the selfie stick. But then very quickly returned it to my backpack after this photo. I can't afford to take any hits to my street cred right now.
The best part of the day though was my walk back into town in the rain because I passed a fire station on the way that I hadn't noticed on my walk out of town previously and I met this little gal-
So that's Fireman Two. For real. That's her name. Fireman One is employed across town at the other fire station. Keep in mind that all of this information is coming from an actual human firefighter who insisted his name was Be Gentle. Therefore, do with all of this information what you will.
In other news- I do feel the need to report that the pineapple carving endeavor that I embarked on was an absolute success. If counseling doesn't work out for me then I could definitely find a career in professional pineapple carving. As I was attempting to perform this pineapple procedure there were several other people around me and all I kept thinking in my head was- at least it appears that I know what I'm doing; they don't have to know that I'm clueless and a slight hazard to society wielding this knife the size of my arm. Here's to faking it until you make it and dirty little secrets.
Tuesday morning I headed out to meet Vincent and am happy to report that two magical things happened on that bus ride. The musical selection started out as twangy, whiny, old school country BUT yet again after the halfway stop in Belmopan we took a turn. Instead of stumbling onto the set of Sixteen Candles, this time we dove head first into 90s boy bands. Backstreet, NSync, 98 Degrees- every last hair gelled, leather pant wearing, frosted tipped one of them. Never in my life did I think I would be riding across Belize hearing the words- BACKSTREET'S BACK, ALRIGHT. But I did. And it was amazing.
The other magical thing was that I rode beside the three largest bags of limes I have ever seen. In short, I was on a date at a private boy band concert with large bags of citrus fruit. I assure you stranger things have happened on a chicken bus in Belize. #fangirling
Upon arriving to meet Vincent I settled in with a conch fritter and had a delightful chat with a British woman who has lived in Canada for the past five years. Vincent and I eventually found one another- turns out he was already there when I arrived but we had each settled in to wait on the other at opposite ends of the bus terminal- but after that mishap this happened
Chicken bus selfie. So off we went to conquer the world. Okay, just Belize. But still.
It was on this bus ride after Vincent had fallen into a post airport coma that the Belizean boy sitting behind me tapped me politely on the shoulder and asked where I was from to which I replied 'the states' and he simply looked me in the eyes and says softly- 'What is it like there?'.
Crickets.
For the first time in a long time I was actually speechless. I didn't have a witty comeback, I didn't have an elaborate explanation, I didn't have anything at all to offer him except a strange, perplexing smile.
It hit me in that moment that I've never had to explain the differences between various places on earth. It makes plenty of sense in my mind and I know how things are different, but I've never verbally expressed it. How does one even begin to do that? What is the appropriate way of measuring differences between cultures and societies? How is it that I've lived in the same country my entire life, yet I have absolutely no idea what to say when asked what it's like there?
These moments are the reason I travel. I may not have had a great answer for him, but he forced me to grow as a person in that moment and he has no idea, nor will he ever.
We continued on to talk about the education system in Belize. I couldn't help but think how similar the system here is to the system in Italy. At a certain point in your education you kind of have to choose a trade/farming route, an academic route or you just kind of drop off the education map. The typical child starts their schooling at around age 3, but they also call that preschool so we have one thing in common!
I also learned that in Belmopan, the capital city, the streets are named after fruits from the different districts within the country. #themoreyouknow
Thank you, Paul, for dropping all that knowledge on me during the first leg of our bus journey together. And thank you for opening my mind just a little bit more than it was before you sat down behind me.
On top of all the other fantastical bus adventures that day, I acquired a new pet
Meet Wintzell. He hung right there for about 1.5 hours. In reality he was kind of paralyzed by the wind from the open windows surrounding us, but I'm telling myself it was the profound conversational silence we shared that he hung around for.
We finally made it into Placencia Tuesday evening after a very long day and many, many hours on several chicken buses. We had a small hiccup when we arrived at our house and Vincent realized his wallet was nowhere to be found. The best we can figure is that it fell out of his jacket while he was sleeping on the bus. Luckily his passport was in a different place so it wasn't a complete disaster. Fret not though. We have recovered and are back in smooth sailing waters.
We went for dinner and when I tell you it was in the top five meals I have ever had in my entire life, I mean it with every ounce of my being. We had lobster grilled cheese. I'll repeat that so you can take it in properly. Lobster. Grilled. Cheese. Mind blown. I thought it was every dream I've ever had coming true until I took a bite of the spicy cilantro chicken wrap we also ordered. People. I just. Sigh. My life changed in that one single bite. It was as if I had literally climbed into the wrap and curled up inside a cilantro leaf and it cradled me gently while whispering sweet nothings into my ear. Absolutely phenomenal. I would named my first born child cilantro if it meant I could eat that wrap every day for the rest of my life. Vincent said it understood his soul. So.
We had stuffed fried jacks the next day since they are a Belizean staple and they were absolutely on point. Food game has been out of this world on this trip. Or maybe it's just my obnoxious love of anything and everything food. Who knows.
Since Placencia is a peninsula this means sandy beaches are on both sides and we have spent our time in the most logical way possible- being beach bums.
We did, however, watch some sailboats putz around for a bit early in the day yesterday and then a Romanian gentleman came along and took our picture. In reality he gave us our own little photo shoot as he was taking pictures from all angles, kneeling and all sorts of crafty things. He was dedicated to getting the perfect picture. Obviously. Unfortunately you guys only get to see the one picture that I choose to post.
So. Here.
All those sailboats. Just living their windy dreams. The rest of the day was spent in beach chairs. On the sand. With drinks. And ceviche. And tostadas. And conch. Lots of conch since it is in season here. It was absolutely the relaxing day that we both needed. Very, very nice.
As of yesterday I have officially had a body part in five different oceans and/or seas across the world. So. I have a pretty good relationship with water, I suppose.
This morning we are headed out to catch the Hokey Pokey water taxi across the bay (I have yet to say that out loud without grinning) and then catch a series of chicken buses all the way to the Guatemalan border to check out some Maya ruins. Xunantunich to be precise. The part I'm most excited about though is the hand crank ferry we have to take in order to get to the site. The way I see it, at the end of the day ruins are ruins. It's kind of like cathedrals- they all pretty much start to look the same to me after the first or second one. Hand crank ferries on the other hand though..
Will we pop into Guatemala for lunch? Will we get sneak attack by Guatemalan squatters in the Belize jungle? Will the hand crank ferry hold out long enough to get us to and fro? Will Phil Collins and Cyndi Lauper make an appearance on one of the buses tomorrow?
I guess you will just have to stay tuned to find out. No pressure or anything.
Happiest of Thursdays to each of you. Don't work too hard out there in the real world. It's not healthy. I promise.
Cheers.
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