Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
So after blowing past the checkout point in Mexico I sat in "No Man's Land" between Belize and Mexico suffering a bit of indecisive paralysis. Reasons to check out of Mexico include the refund of $300 for removing your vehicle, and the nice thought that somehow down the road should you re enter Mexico it will not be complicated by some hole in their record keeping. I can pretty easily see a scenario in which a savvy border guard detects that your vehicle is on the US side of the border at the same time his computer is telling him that it should be on the Mexican side, and in fact, it is very late in leaving the Mexican side, so the payment of a fine will be required. He may also need you to cross out of country twice when you get back, but that will be your problem...
I came across a fellow American at the Mexican border who was operating in Mexico under some type of duel citezenship loophole in which he claimed he was allowed to overstay his vehicle permit...theoretically... but this had completely confounded the Mexicans system and he looked to be in for 15 rounds. All Mexicans are natural pugelists too.
The Belizian border is a very sleepy place, and I had a very nice conversation with every clerk I encountered. It is kind of like the DMV actually, or airport security, most people seem to be on their "break" and therefore both invisible and incapable of helping out or performing work of any kind, this includes general acknowledgement. It is not an unpleasant place though, it doesn't have the tension associated with the US versions. In the US upon entering the DMV, there is a palpable sense in the air that a major clash is about to occur between one common American's desire for success and brevity, and another common Americans desire to be left the f*** alone. In Belize I did not sense there were any expectations of anything, which remarkably removed any need for hostility.
So after determining that it would be a pain in the ass for everyone if I immigrated in and then tried to return to Mexico later for the money I left the Belizians and went back to the Mexican side to check out. This turned out to go exceptionally well, with only one hitch...You actually have to pay the Mexican guy to get the exit stamp which I did and then I went over to the Banjercito to check out the vehicle, but it had just closed. So now...I was personally and officially out of Mexico and the truck was still officially in Mexico along with my money. With little options I returned to the Belizian side to immigrate in, where I found out that liability insurance is compulsory in Belize and that there insurance agent was closed too.
This may all sound like a bit of a disaster but each event actually happened pretty quickly, because there really werent any lines anywhere...had this not been the case...I would be swearing more in this recount at the least. After some prodding I found out that the fumigation guy occasionally sells insurance too ( a true fact) for $1 a day. After some more digging I decided that any forward progress into Belize would only tighten the international snarl I was already in and that I should really just stop and wait a day for the missing pieces to just fall into place. It was kind of a funny conversation but i purchased two days of parking for $8 and then camped out in the parking lot in No Man's land, where I watched an illegal copy of Moneyball...but since there was no national jursdiction their...I think it may have actually been less illegal...
For some reason the manager showed up around 2 AM and was really quite upset about the overnight parking. I do not think he knew I was in the truck so he just paced around cursing about "Alma"...the woman who sold me the parking passes, and berating the guard...who was an old man that was supposed to be trolling around on a bicycle, but who had just been caught sleeping on a bench. Eventually the man of authority left and we all went back to sleep.
There is a funny thing, culturally speaking...happening in Belize at the moment. About 5 years ago the Chinese started to move in, in masses. I was told that at first the locals resisted it fiercely but now they seem to have accepted it. Before the Chinese came, you had to go to this store for onions, that store for the birds and another store for the cereal. Now you can run to your corner Chinese market and pick up everything you need in one stop...The Chinese are invading Belize under cover of convenience and its working! No Mans land was entirely Chinese "duty free" stores with all sorts of crazy chinese clothes for sale... My favorite was a brand name shirt that read "Callifornia"
In the morning everything went splendidly and I set off into Belize. My personal opinion of Belize is low... I did not like it. See my Cancun entries...It is not as scammy, but it does cost about the same. I was not too committed to loving the country so I did not force my way against the cosmic current and get out to the Cayes (islands just off the coast where all the diving is.)
Belize City is to be avoided for sure, so after checking it out, I headed out of town where I spent the first two nights in a more or less abandoned ecological resort. Very near the Bermudian Landing. I was aiming for the monkey bay resort, but true to form down here, where there is one resort there are many, and I just followed the first signs I saw. There were four locals "working" (one worked) at the resort and not a soul otherwise.
Belizians generally speak english, some speak Spanish, and there is a plethora of Mayan dialects too, but they ALL seem to prefer to speak Creole...which IS english but with the accents in mysterious places. It is not readily understood by the laymen. Most people just sound like Jamaicans. The boys, Stain, Chuck, Charlie, and Johnny, showed me where the 12' boa constrictor had surprised them the other day by crawling through camp. Then they showed me a pack of very mangy little dogs that were kept around as tiger alerts. All the dogs were free except one...who was tied up in the Tiger's known path of travel... His name was Taco Bell, and he was a very nervous little dog. I am told there are not actually tigers in Belize, but I was assured by Chuck that this was a real life tiger-tiger (he says things he really-really means twice) so I will assume it is tiger like, but probably not the striped kind. Then they showed me the kitty that the dogs had just mauled. It was one of those instances where the dogs were just playing but the hapless cat was injured pretty badly.
Chuck put him in a box and tried to give him some pills (no idea what kind of medicine) but the cat bit him and then died. Chuck was pretty incensed that the last thing the cat did on earth was to bite the only person in the world who was trying to help it. There was talk of punishing the dogs, but I convinced them that the dogs had long forgotten their tresspasses against the cat, and beating them would only make them want to bite people...
At some point the boys informed me that they were going to grill up a bird and maybe get some rum. About 20 minutes later one of them showed back up with a bloody chicken with a mangled neck...so I went to the store and sponsored the rum purchase. $10 for a ½ gallon.
These boys did not tread lightly when it came to bird prep or rum drinking. I told them about the American cowards who didn't have the heart to kill Fluffy and in the end adopted it as a pet. They thought this was pretty amusing.
As it turned out Chuck was a grill specialist, he loved it, and it was all he really wanted to do ever. He plucked, cleaned and grilled the bird in no time, and it was delicious...He kept muttering about a bird they got last time that was slim-slim, and that this one was better... he also said that when they said "go get a bird" they meant just go out to the road and get one from somewhere. After two days with these guys I am sufficiently convinced that they were some grade A Belizian rednecks.
There is nary a word about tigers, panthers and jaguars in Mexico. This is not the case however in Belize. To say all savage cats less the lion, boa constrictors crocodiles and rattlesnakes is a major abbreviation of the faunal hazards. Of course in my week here I have seen 300 birds 2 turtles and a small brown pig-like rodent, most likely a Gibnut.
Right after I saw the Gibnut, I ran into a reserve worker who was hurrying back to the HQ. I asked him about the strange animal, but he misunderstood me and showed me the leaves he was collecting. I followed his lead and asked what they were for, and he said they were for boils on the skin...chop the leaf up and apply it as a poultice over the boil and it will draw the "whatever the problem is" out... He hurried off, and I didn't press the Gibnut thing, he seemed to have other concerns.
Dem boys asked me once if I wanted to go swimming in the river.
"What about the crocodiles?" I asked, to which they replied,
"No crocodiles inm dare mon. We say Hally-gatah. Don't worry doh, hally gatah only bite dee China-mon."
Incidentally the river is known to be quite dangerous but again, "only dee china mon drowns in dare."
Also of note: If you are going to hunt armadillos or "hama-dillys" it is best to catch them above ground because sometime snakes take over their burrows..."and dee snake, he come out dee hole firin'...
All of the animals I have mentioned so far can be grilled up...except the tiger and the panther...panther meat has worms in it. This information is not theoretical either...them boys will throw up anything on "dat greel"
At first I thought the Tiger alert was a good thing, but when the dogs sounded the alarm at 2 AM (It is ALWAYS 2 AM) I realized that a tiger alarm really isnt worth much if you aren't prepared to DO anything about the tiger-tiger that is creeping around...I was tempted to lock the camper door, but I did not, for I am aware of how pathetic that would appear, and If I were killed by a tiger, I would not want my last action to have been something so amateur.
We did see one tiger hunter on the road...he had a very large shotgun over his back and he was on bike. Apparently he was servicing the black market to make his living. "Dem boys" told me that if you are caught with a gun it is "JAIL". Straight to jail. but they also told me that they had an uncle in town with some big strings to pull, and he could get everyone back out of jail and for any crime. I drove past the jail on my way to the "resort". There were 15 or so black guys in orange jumpsuits cutting the grass with machetes out front, a lot of them had VERY large bundles of dreadlocks in sacks on top of their heads. I was told they were the violent type of Rasta mon. As I passed the prison I saw an inmate standing on the interior next to a building and also next to pretty ornate looking coffin. The juxtaposition was striking and a little haunting, no idea if anyone was in the box or not.
On coffins: It would not surprise me if the coffins here are actually cardboard Chinese forgeries of actual wood coffins. I once saw a whole coffin storefront...and the products struck me as just very oddly colored, kind of a powder blue, and lightish orange.
The other interesting thing about the prison was that the big tall cyclone fence out front did not have barbed wire on top, and it just ended at the end of the prison without turning the corner to form an enclosure... as if it were more or less just for show. Or the side fell down and they just hadn't gotten around to repairing it.
The boys were around 19 years old and were convinced that everything in the States was better easier and faster. In truth they were quite poor and isolated in a jungle community, and the idea that somewhere things might come easier was what they were hanging on to. They really like the cheap plastic lighter I had, but when I showed them it was made in China, and they saw that their "crappier" lighter was made in France, everyones preoconceived notions of the world were a little shaken.
They had just discovered South Park, the episode in which Satan's gay lover is Saddamn Hussein, and a few of the boys were a little surprised that Saddam had been killed. Apparently he had little effect on Belizian country life. What they are cognizant of however is Guatemalan aggression. Originally Belize was part of Guatemala, however it was mainly a port town which the Brittish used to export resources. There was not even a road over their from Guatemala. Eventually the Brittish offered enough aid and support to Belize that they eventually succeeded from Guatemala and formed their own 300,000 person country. The current issue is that every Guatemalan election cycle, the candidates all rile up the Guatemalans with promises of conquest and recapture of the renegade Belize. The Brittish still act as arbitrators in meetings that are presently being held. While I was present the Belize Army drilling and firing artillary rounds onto a test range. It was a very impressive low booming rumble everytime one detonated. I believe it was a show of force, but the boys had other ideas.
They really didnt like the military guys, because they just lie around all day and then go into town and "steal up all dee girls" by impressing them with their guns. But if the s*** really hit the fan they would be "overrun in a day" and then would complain about not having any bombs to fight back with....
"Dats because they dropped'm all dem bombs in dee field mon."
After The eco resort I formed a plan to drive to the south of Belize and then take a ferry over to Livingstone Guatemala or maybe Puerto Cortes in Honduras. I litterally drove to the waters edge where I was informed that no such ferry existed for cars. This occurred in Placentia, after I visited all of the beach communities in Southern Belize. The tour was nice but the place just idnt grab me...it looked like a pretty good place to lie on the beach, smoke and drink yourself to death, and have black people bring you things...Not my scene.
I ate a fish soup lunch in placentia at a Creole street stand. the proprietor was on aloder black lady who knew everyone and pleasantly accosted the tourists as they went by in their golf carts.
"Hey ben! I thought I was your girl: She yelled after one couple.
Then another older white male passed by and she called to him.
" You need to pay your bills man!"
To which he replied
"You need to leave me alone! you are a rude nasty women and I dont want you to talk to me any more!!"
"You rude white man! Pay your bills! you are ugly and rude, thats all I have to say!"
This went on all the while the white guy was trying to get his dinghy started and escape. every time the scene started to simmer down, she would call something else to him and then reassure herself that she had said her piece. It turns out that the the guy had a yacht in the harbor and had been unloading big garbage bags in the local dumpsters and refused to pay $5 per bag for the dumping...
"Looks like you got a pirate on your hands" I said.
"Yeah! Damn right. He's a rude ugly pirate out there!"
I headed out to the border town of San Igancio after lunch and for the first time in Belize came to a town which actually had a cool feel to me. It was a major crossroads for travelers but the inhabitants didnt seem affected and pretty much just carried about their business as usual. That night in a bar in town I came across some Americans from Pensyllvania. They were sitting at the bar and absolutely smashed. The bar tender, in an effort to impress poured all of us a shot of Belize's "special" rum. Redtop. It is something like 80% alcohol, and is pure fire. They call that moonshine where I'm from, I told them.
One of the Americans only wearing jean shorts and was out of his mind, teetering around and slurring. I one point I made the small mistake of commenting that our bartender was probably the only bartender in the world, who would have poured that drunk a shot of Redtop...The less drunk American laughed and then the bartender wanted to know what I said...when I repeated it, he winked at me and then poured the drunk another shot, but this time disguised with some grenadine. The Americans got through it but, not without much riducule from the bartender.
After this the less drunk American tried to tell me that I needed to get my stamp out in Belmopon ( a town about an hour opposite the border) Because "They'll totally f*** with you at the border, and not give you your stamp and then JAIL. Straight to Jail" he slurred on...There a few more drunken attempts to describe the horrors that awaited me at the border, and then I said goodnight and headed home.
I didnt encounter any issue whatseovever at the border crossing, and I suspect that in reality it was an incredibly poorly executed drunken ruse designed to avenge the double redtop shot. More misguided American aggression if you ask me. In retrospect I am pretty amused by the recollection of the drunken wheels turning in this guys head...JAIL!
Made it to Tikal the next day. Stay tuned for the Guatemala Update.
Much Love.
Joe
- comments
Alison Hi Joe, Sounds like things might be getting a little Western down there? Keep your head on straight. Love, Ali