July 13, 2015

Day 2

Belize City to Flores, Guatemala

Early Monday morning I was up with our group and ready to walk to the bus station near the hotel in Belize City.  Waiting for a bus in Central America was a new experience for me, but our guide was very good about prepping us for what to do before we got to the station.  The bus station turned out to be a large tin building that looked as if it had weathered a hurricane or two.  There was a huge crowd and no one was standing in a line; instead the mob of people just kept pushing further and further into the sheltered area and pressed against the 12 foot high chain-link fence that kept the

crowd out of the bus yard.  

(from Google images)

     

     The heat was already oppressive early in the morning and the smells of sweaty people and freshly fried meat pies filled the air.  Being only of average height, it was difficult to see anything above all the heads other than the few food vendor signs hanging high.  As more and more people filled the station, our guide, Diego, began to look worried, although we all knew he was from Costa Rica and had guided several trips in Belize, so he must know what he was doing.  "Stay close and don't be afraid to push," he says, leaning in toward us.  Seriously? I look around and see the same look of excited apprehension on the other teachers' faces.  Yes, we're doing this.  

     

     A couple of buses have already came and gone, letting people off, but the fence has not been opened to allow any to board buses.  How anyone knows what buses are going where, I have no idea.  There are no signs.  There's not even a ticket window.  Then about 9:10, our 8:30 bus arrives.  A bus attendant unlatches the fence and quickly steps out of the way.  The crowd pushes forward, and somehow I'm able to push through, hoping that I'm not left behind.  "To the back!" our guide yells.  I head straight to the back, throw my 35 pound pack into someone' s hands, put my foot on the back bumper of an old school bus and hoist myself upward, throwing myself into a seat.  I have to say that's the first time I've ever boarded a school bus that way.    

(from Google images)

     Once on the bus, things become more polite.  Apparently once you sit in a seat, it’s yours.  If you put a bag down beside you, it’s understood it’s saved for someone and no one will ask to sit with you.  This hold true even for bus stops where you can get off to use the restroom:  if you leave your things there, it's understood you're coming back and they won't be bothered.  All of us teachers look out for each other and save seats for one another once some of us are on.  I found myself sitting next to a window, packed in tight with sweaty bodies and no ac.  Down windows let hot air blow through like on a long middle-school bus ride home and I'm glad I remembered to tie my hair back this morning.  All the teachers are seated at the back of the bus.  Are we the bad kids? Looking around, the locals stack into the seats, even pushing in 4 to 5 in a seat.  Our guide has told us that the bus will not move until everyone is "seated," which just means you need to look like you're sitting down.  Once out of the station, all bets are off.

In Belize, the buses are a main mode of transportation.  Cabs are too expensive for most citizens, so a lot of Belizeans use the bus to travel long distances.  There are few official bus stops and only a few bus routes.  So if you want to board the bus, you just stand on the side of the road and wait.  A bus will come by eventually and you get on.  You would also know that your 8:30 bus may arrive at 8:35, 9:35 or not at all; it will get there when it gets there.  If it doesn't arrive, you go home and try again tomrorow.  

     I'm really glad we had a guide for this part of the trip.  There were so many local protocals I didn't know or understanding just in trying to ride a bus! Such as you don't pay for your bus fare until you board the bus and the bus starts moving.  Then an attendant walks up and down the aisle takes money.  One Australian couple tried 3 times to get on the bus but they were pushed out of the way.  Finally our guide helped them out by telling them what to do and they were able to board on our bus.  

San Ignacio, Belize!

Bus stop in San Ignacio

We drove west, heading closer to Guatemala.  It's a lush, green part of the world and I'm ready to see my first creatures! Sadly there are few jungle animals to see while riding a bus down a paved road.  There were, however, many skinny horses tied up by the side of the road, munching away on grass, and there are dogs everywhere! I'm not sure if they were strays or not, but every house seems to have several and then there are more beyond that.  The further west we go, the more hilly the countryside becomes and the more trees fill up the scenery.  We spend the entire day traveling, stopping for lunch in San Ignacio.  There is no obvious bus stop.  The bus just stops by the side of the road on the edge of a small town.    

     Before eating lunch we head to the open-air San Ignacio market.  Colorful fruits and vegetables are everywhere and you can actually smell the ripe vegetation before seeing it.  Being a typical group of teachers, we all began buying and sharing the different treats available in the different stalls.  Someone gave me a small plantain to try, which tasted like a really sweet banana.  I try one of the bananas, which was one of the best I've ever eaten.  Everything looks so fresh and the colors are so bright they look unreal.  Our guide told us that a lot of the produce comes from the large Mennonite community in Belize.  They refrain from participating wholly in Belizean society, but the Mennonites play a large part in the agricultural sector of Belizean economy.  

     The market is set up a lot like other outdoor markets I've seen:  a Jerusalem market and the Nassau straw market.  The difference is that here no one is pushing us to buy anything.  If you approach a stall, the seller will nicely ask how you are doing in English (the official language of Belize), and they may quietly try to get you to look at something, but they don't push.  I don’t know if it’s the heat and humidity or the politeness of the culture, but it's nice to be able to look without being pressured.  All of the goods for sale in the market can also be haggled for, which I'm never good at! 

That’s Belizean dollars.  2 Belizean dollars = $1 US

San Ignacio sky

The hand-cranked ferry that gets cars and people across the river to a path that leads to another Mayan ruins site.

After eating quesadillas for lunch at a local restaurant (the same of which I would eat at several times.  The cheese quesadilla was HUGE and so good!), we trudged up the largest hill in town under the mid-day blazing sun, no shade in sight.  So glad I’ve brought my water, and by the time we make it to the top, I’ve drank the whole liter.  

Just outside of town, we reach the Cayo Centre for Employment Training, where we are scheduled to do a school tour.  A couple of the faculty greet with refreshing cucumber punch, which was made by the students in the culinary arts program using a recipe created by one of the teachers who was once a chef in a local hotel.  The school is like a vocational school and students can take classes in culinary arts, automotive maintenance, electrical work, refrigeration, and business hospitality (tourism is a big industry in Belize).  

The students are mostly teenagers, although any age can apply, and they must wear uniforms, pay for their own tuition (1125 Belizean per year), and pass a series of tests to stay in the program.  It typically takes about 10 months to complete a program and the students must complete a one month on-the-job internship to be passed for their certification.  We were able to tour each of the classrooms and see some of the classes in action.  One of the most interesting teachers was a British ex-pat who was teaching automotive repair to a roomful of teenage boys.  The boys were all smiles,  and you could hear their quiet murmurings and boyish giggles as we walked in.  Typical teenagers but they seemed to have great rapport with their teacher who continued to teach, talk with us, and joke with everyone as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened since a group of teachers just walked in on his class.  

Late afternoon:  we hop on a van and continue heading west.  Our goal is to reach Flores, Guatemala for the night, but we first have to stop at the Guatemalan border in order to get our passports stamped.  Already it's evident that the cultures are changing; there's more Mayan influence and Spanish is more widely spoken.  In fact, the map I picked up of Guatemala is entirely in Spanish.  We walk across the border and hop into a waiting van after hefting our bags up on top of the van where they are strapped down and covered with tarps.  

The roads are extremely bumpy and we bounce along in the van going further into the jungle of the Peten region.  There are more and more horses tied up near the road and when I asked about why there are so many, I was told that people still use them a lot for farming and transportation.  It softly begins to rain and we finally reach Flores, arriving in our hotel after dark.