I Just Can't Belize It.

My next blog will answer the famous question, "Why did you decide to go to Belize, anyway?" But for now, the thrilling tale of how I got there.

Note: If at any point while reading this post, you begin to worry about my safety, you must stop reading. Worrying is not allowed. I only tell the truth so you can know.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

It is 3:45 in the morning. Jamie and I are sitting on the curb outside our current residence in Guatemala waiting for the shuttle to pick me up. I am so tired that I cannot grasp the idea of what is about to take place.

A little after four the shuttle comes. As we leave Antigua the truth sets in. I am on a bus. I know no one. I really have no idea what I am about to do, but I know my ultimate destination is Belize. The anticipation of taking a trip with this group of strangers is quickly settled because they are all dropped off at the airport in Guatemala City. I am still in a bus. I am not completely alone, as I have two men with me who are in charge of driving the shuttle and (hopefully) getting me on the bus headed to Puerto Barrios. After I arrive in Puerto Barrios all I have to do is take a ferry to Punta Gorda and then I am in Belize. Sounds simple enough.

Sure enough, one of the men helps me buy my ticket and then I am left to wait for the bus. I honestly don't know why I am surprised that I am literally the only white person around. I get on that bus and there is legitimately not another white person. A whole charter bus of travelers and they all are Guatemalan. Okay. No big deal. It's just a little funny to me.

The bus ride is pretty uneventful. I sleep most of the time but do catch glimpses of Guatemala as it zooms past. Beyond that, the only notable fact was how liberal the lady next to me was with her elbows. Turns out this type of action while I am trying to sleep irritates me. I eat a pack of my favorite Guatemalan cookies. I also tell myself that this was a stupid idea. I arrive in Puerto Barrios around one pm. I must find the ferry. I am so cheap that I do not want to pay a taxi, so I decide to walk. I am also too prideful to ask for directions (also a little intimidated because Spanish but I won't downplay the major part my pride played in my decisions today) so I decided to just walk toward the water and hope for the best.

After a couple blocks the water is still in sight but I am literally surrounded by cargo trucks filled with bananas. Dole and Chiquita everywhere. It is at this exact point that I realize my dad would kill me if he knew what I was doing. I get to the water but it is just loading and unloading for the bananas. I head down a random street that I see some traffic at the end of. I figure it's time to suck it up and get a taxi to take me to the harbor. Even when I arrive at the busy street I am not quite done letting my pride rule the day, so I head towards the water, but at a different point, once more. I walk past stores and get into a neighborhood and the little voice in my head tells me it's time to turn around. It also tells me I should have been mugged like ten minutes ago. So I walk past all those people and stores again. They for sure know I am lost now. Easy target. I'm on edge. It starts raining. Once again I tell myself how stupid I am.

Using my awesome sense of direction and pure luck, I arrive at the bus station again. There are a lot of taxis but they are all empty of drivers A man in a booth asks me if I need a taxi and I am saved. I ask the way to the ferries and he says he will take me. Of all the taxis there, we get into an unmarked one. At least I am aware of these types of things. It shows how smart I am. Smart or not, I get in. He really is a nice guy, though, because first he takes me to immigration and he waits for me there. Once we get to the harbor he even helps me find the right ferry and makes sure I get a ticket. Thank the Lord for that over-friendly taxi driver.

Little did I know that over-friendly strangers are the only way I would make it through the next two days.

I have to wait over an hour before my ferry leaves because I just missed one (if I hadn't wandered pridefully I would have made it(I am so glad I missed the ferry)), but that's not even the biggest hitch. If this was any normal day, my ferry would leave for Punta Gorda at 3:30 pm, the last ferry to head from Puerto Barrios to P.G for the day. But today is not an ordinary day, of course. Not for me; not for anyone. So this ferry has a special group to pick up in Livingston, Guatemala the next day to take to P.G. I have a choice: I can stay the night in Puerto Barrios and catch the first ferry to P.G. at 6:30 am or I can go to Livingston with this ferry driver, stay the night there, and get a ride to P.G. at 8 am. Memo the ferry operator says it's cheaper to stay in Livingston and that is enough to make up my mind considering some hidden expenses that threw my cash calculations off. So I'm off with Memo and his assistant, Duetan, both from Belize, and a Guatemalan who lives in Belize. When we arrive in Livingston, Memo points me to the nicest hotel. Of course, I have to ask for the cheapest hotel, so he takes me to the one he always stays at. Hotel Caribe cost me $4.66 to stay for the night. After I pay, the owner hands me a key, a roll of toilet paper, and a tiny bar of soap. I have my own room with two twin beds and I share a bathroom with everyone else who chose to have the shared bathroom.

As we walked to the hotel, I learned how lucky I am to stay the night in Livingston. Tonight all of Livingston is celebrating the day that their ancestors landed in Guatemala, Belize, and Honduras. FIESTA ALL NIGHT! Oh please. I woke up at 3:30 this morning. Ha. After settling in at the hotel, Duetan says he is going to check out the festivities so I invite myself along. I figure it is better to be with a stranger than alone.

We walk all over the town and he tells me about the history of the Garifuna. This includes the language he speaks fluently and he tells me how kids are starting to only learn Spanish so it is dying out. This was an amazing cultural experience and lesson. He also informed me about how I should have gotten robbed with the way I was wandering around Puerto Barrios. I was basically randomly laughing like a fool throughout the whole walk because I could not believe how amazing and crazy my life is. Me being here was a fluke!

God's plan are so much greater than ours.

And I'm not even done yet.

We get back to the hotel around 5:30 and I figure it is a good idea to find out if there is internet in this town because literally no one has any idea where I am and no one has heard from me since at least 2:30 in the morning. We go to an internet cafe so the people I left in Antigua and some people in the states can know where I am and that I am, dare I say, safe.

I sit on the curb outside of the internet cafe as Duetan finishes up. I am literally still laughing out loud because I cannot believe my life. That is when a friendly young man decided to make my acquaintance. His name is Cly (which sounds like it came straight from The Hunger Games) and we chat about how I like Livingston and the celebration. We talked about how I ended up there for such a short amount of time and he even taught me to say some things in Garifuna ("How are you?" sounds a lot like hubbumadub, a word I just made up.). Cly was really friendly and nice. It was cool to make a friend like that because as I was preparing to set out on this adventure alone everyone back in Antigua said I would be fine because I would make friends. I never would have imagined how that actually turned out!

Everywhere I went, God gave me a friend.

We are not meant to do life alone.

The rest of the night consisted of writing all this and what I like to call "movie night" which means I sat on my bed staring at the wall, eating Fritos and drinking water.


Thursday, November 27, 2014

Memo said we leave at 8 and to be on the dock at 7:30. When I get there it is raining and a man is sewing the boat cover. It is obvious that we will not be leaving by 8. The man sewing Memo's boat back together let's me sit in his boat because it is a little more dry. For all I know I sat there in the rain for hours, but it was probably more like 45 minutes. Memo comes and even gives me his coffee so I know we are friends. It is still raining, but mostly just spitting, which is worse than torrential downpour. I am wet and freezing. This is around the 11th time I tell myself how stupid I am, then laugh because my life is awesome. I consider peeing my pants for warmth.

The group gets on board and they sure are a fun lot! We put on life jackets and cover ourselves with sheets of plastic. Come to find out, it's not just for the rain. If I thought I was wet before I had no idea what was coming.

We are in a ferry zooming across the ocean. At first I see land but then it disappears. I am already curled in the fetal position for warmth. Then, between the waves that we jump over and the angle of the boat, I slide down the bench so far that I end up cuddled into the armpit of this large, Belizean man next to me. I can't really complain because he is warm. We make small talk.

We cross a channel and the air becomes at least 20 degrees warmer. I hand off my portion of the plastic. It was only behind us anyway and most of the water came from the front so I am pretty wet already. The ocean spray is warm and so is the breeze. I am so, so happy. Once again, I am laughing and making myself to look like a fool.

I HAVE SUCEEDED. 

I AM IN BELIZE. 

Now what to do...

Memo never fails me. He points me to his office and says he has maps there for after I go through immigration. Luckily, I only get charged to leave countries, so entering Belize is free. Customs asks me why I am coming to Belize. I say vacation.

Do I look like I am on vacation? No. I look like a recently bathed cat.

When Memo arrives he goes over some of the options for me, different places I can go, hotels in P.G., which is a pretty small town. My brain keeps dead-ending so Memo says we need food. I don't have any Belizean dollars yet, so he buys. Bless his heart.

Duetan and I chill on the porch and I meet some of their friends. I decide to set up camp in P.G. for the next couple days. I stay at the cheaper hotel in town and one of the friends offers to give me a ride there because he is going that direction. Well, strangers have not failed me yet and I am probably getting a little too liberal with my yes, so I accept.

The hotel is called Nature's Way (doesn't that make you want to stay?) and it costs $11.50 a night. There is even wifi so I can video-chat my family on Thanksgiving! And that is where I sit as I write this blog, in a flurry (not the type that are in Michigan or at DQ), while the experiences are still fresh.

I am exhausted, but the excitement and adrenaline prevents me from sleeping. What is my life?
On this Thanksgiving, I have become a whole different kind of thankful.

I am thankful for God's protection over my life, for His presence in everything for everyone to see.

I am thankful that my whole entire family is together in Michigan.
I am thankful for friends that support me.

I am very thankful for strangers.

Peace. Forever.


P.S. Forgive me, Dad.