People are part of a trip. Places are another part.
Places are where people go for fun, for business, to restock, to rest, to meet, to connect, to share news.
These places in San Pedro Town are like little trinkets on a charm bracelet women wear on their ankles.
When I revisit this trip, without going back, these photos will be my next best vacation.
Lake Caribe has not vanished.
This morning a path is built of cinder blocks so those of us walking from the house to the street don’t get our shoes wet. Some say there is no progress in this little slice of Paradise but this path is living proof that us humans adapt to Mother Nature when we have to.
Walter and I build the cinder block stepping stone path the morning after the big rain, and, except for a little sliding of blocks when you walk on them, it works perfectly.
The world news today is terrorist bombings in Paris, France. That country continues to let refugees into their country by the hundred thousands, don’t know their intentions, and seem surprised that they are getting victimized by those they seem to think they have to help.
In San Pedro Town, the world is out there somewhere, beyond the reef.
Hopefully, that is where the world stays.
Building a simple cinder block path to get from the house to the road is more pressing than Paris and is something Walter and I have control over.
The grills are fired up and chickens are the topic of conversation.
A local Hispanic church is doing a fundraiser selling food, used clothes and donated items outside their little church in San Pedro town.
” Jesus es la Repuestra ” the marquee says and they are doing brisk business this Sunday at lunchtime.
I have barbecued chicken and rice with slaw, sit on a bench as a cluster of volunteers praise Christ, pack orders to go, and celebrate.
A boombox, on the wall next to me, plays Cuban salsa.
It feels like home to be hearing Spanish and even though New Mexico just got snow, which I know because I checked with the weather lady on the internet, I’m not ready to run back home just yet.
There are rubber bands tied to my ankles that want to snap me back to the Land of Enchantment when I have pulled them to their maximum stretch. The rubber bands are extended, right now, almost to their maximum length.
Jesus motions for us to follow, but some insist on putting toes in the water before their feet go in.
Humming ” Amazing Grace “, sitting on a rock wall, the water is already up to my knees.
This church rents a shut down movie theater on Sundays for two services -8 :30 and 10:00 am. The mother church is in Albuquerque, New Mexico and Sagebrush, I have been told by an Albuquerque friend who is a member, is on Albuquerque’s west side and has locations in other New Mexico cities.
Sagebrush Belize is raising money in San Pedro Town to build a new facility, over the bridge, in sight of this movie theater, right where a wood sign now sticks in a sand lot.
There are questions raised by church members about spending a million dollars on a building but the official answer is that it is expensive to rent and the church needs room to grow. What began as a Bible study in an upstairs room has become more.
Belize has pressing needs. Churches serve more quickly, economically, and responsibly than government.
Having a million dollar temple is not going to get you closer to Jesus, but it isn’t going to hurt recruiting.
The resort and casino are on the north side of Ambergris Caye and you get there in a taxi by the new road, or a water taxi with Coastal Express, or catch one of the resort’s own shuttles that bring guests to and from their accommodations.
This time of year the resort is not bustling. Saturday’s guests are off doing tours or sleeping from too much sun, too much party, too much jet lag, too much culture shock.
Captain Morgan was, by most accounts, successful. He was a privateer rather than a pirate. He was authorized by the Queen to steal Spanish gold, sink Spanish ships, kill Spanish seaman and citizens. Pirates steal from everyone, have no allegiances, and are enemies of the state.
Captain Morgan was a clever fighting man and retired in Jamaica where he amassed land, riches, and died in his own bed. There is a rum named after him and on the walls of this resorts guest houses are wood planks with names of fellow privateers that prowled the Caribbean.
Captain Morgan’s spirit is still lurking in these islands and who knows when he will swoop in to the casino, draw his broadsword, load guest valuables into his large brimmed hat and finish a bottle of spiced rum before disappearing into the seas on a full moon night with the prettiest girl under his arm.
The biggest news is the casino doesn’t open till six in the evening.
If he had it to do over, Captain Morgan would run a casino instead of pirating
With gambling you don’t kill your customers.
Lodgers left and leave the only key where Jack can’t find it.
” I only have one key, ” Jack explains, as he takes a hammer and knocks apart the dead bolt. ” I don’t want to be accused of taking any ones stuff. ”
It only takes a few seconds of hammering to knock the dead bolt apart and open the door. The door handle has already been picked.
The only difference between breaking and entering, and getting a place ready to rent, is intent.
Growing up in the landlord business, with a dad who had more than one property, this is just a small irritation. With a new deadbolt, lock set, and key, the new renters will never know the difference.
They will get their only key and everyone will sleep like babies.
There is street food in San Pedro Town.
This little enterprise, ” La Taqueria “, opens at seven thirty each morning on Coconut Street where the road turns towards the Average Joe Bar and Caribbean Fuels gas station, and turns again past the S & P Hardware store to points south.
The taqueria’s, chicken or pork inside a small rolled corn tortilla, are three for a Belizian dollar. For six U.S. dollars you can buy fifteen and a drink and not have to eat the rest of the day.
On one of the stand’s windows is a business license and hot food is in slowly simmering pots. A short woman, with a fork, scoops meat out of a pot of your choice, spreads it on a tortilla, then rolls the tortilla and wraps them in foil for take out. You can have onions and a local hot sauce for no extra charge. Her husband sets up folding tables for dine in’s and puts money into a little metal cash box.
This morning I wait for a man ahead of me who orders twenty one.
Street food gets a bad rep. These kitchens are cleaner than some restaurants here plus you get to watch your meal being prepared.
Licking hot sauce off my fingers, that oozes out of the taqueria, as I bite, gives this trip panache.
Dog lovers often bring their dogs on vacation with them.
This little guy runs down the beach and his owners tell us, as we pass them, that he will swim out to get birds all the way to the end of the pier.
Down the beach, only moments ago, Rabbit and I met a local woman with a pooper scooper who said she was watching for the dog that poops on her yard each morning. She also tells us, matter of factly, that she has a loaded shotgun and would love to make her day and shoot the dogs owner first.
You Tube is where aliens can go to get a good read on our planet.
This little dog needs to be careful about his business.
Shotguns can take you all the way out of this life even if the human who pulls the trigger is half blind and drunk as a skunk.
In San Pedro Town this afternoon, after school, a couple of boys come up with their own game. Tarzan’s jungle can be any place on the planet as long as there is a little boy who puts two and two together.
One of the boys grabs one end of a dangling palm branch, holds on, then swings himself out over the beach and water and back to dry land. The branch might break and send him crashing but it is a risk worth taking.
While he swings, the other boy waits his turn.
A couple of girls, outside the picture, shake their heads and call the boy’s crazy.
And, we are.
There are at least two hundred invited guests but anyone can join this wedding..
Wayos is a popular beach bar in San Pedro Town and Wayo, pronounced Y -oh, is a popular owner.
When the groom arrives in a black golf cart limo, there is applause and cheers. As always, his bar is open and weather is uncooperative. It rains in spurts and people crowd under tents, roof overhangs, and in the bar to escape another torrential downpour.
The wedding ceremony is short and the couple recites handwritten vows under a big tent overlooking the Caribbean Sea.. They promise to honor and cherish and encourage and support each other, and, in front of important people in their life, draw a big heart in the sand with their names inside it.
Before, during, and after the ceremony, people re-connect. It is a close knit group on this Isla Bonita and meeting people is not difficult here. When people come here they cast time and routine out of the boat and lifting anchors that hold them elsewhere.
It is a good wedding and a happy time.
Nature isn’t co-operating but another lady well wisher, standing next to me, tells me it is good luck to be married on a rainy day.
If that is so, this couple will have enough luck to take care of all of us.
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