You better Belize it

I didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry once I found out (today) that Belize was mentioned in one of the ‘Breaking Bad’ episodes. I watched the show from the beginning to the end (and loved it, too) and did not remember hearing that. In my defense, I did that while collecting stamps in my passport. It would have been easy to miss one bit. Back then Belize was most definitely not on my mind. Fast forward three years, it was the only thing on my mind.

‘Oh no, don’t go there’.

I was reading the references of the couchsurfing hosts out loud, when Juanita’s sister spoke up while washing clothes and bathing her little girl at the same time.

Did you know that 5 years ago I didn’t own a cellphone? The last phone I had was the one I dropped into the washing machine when I still lived in Alderney. Needless to say, even after the tumble dryer cycle, the rice and the use of the hairdryer, it didn’t come back to life. So that was that.

Now tell me that spending a couple of years without a cellphone is not an attractive idea. It sure was to me. So not only I had set off to Peru not knowing the guy I’d be travelling with, but I’d gone without a phone too. I know, my poor family. But do give me some credit, please, I had my tablet with me.

‘How did you manage for over 3 years without a phone?’ – my friends often wondered. My Peruvian had his, thank you very much, so we were covered. Besides, I could do anything internet related on my tablet and we did manage to find and use some public phones when needed. On a very rare occasion. Where they still existed.

When my trip ended in Europe, I was still without a phone. When I went to Spain, I still hadn’t gotten one. And when I came back to Mexico, my tablet was my only means of communication. I remember my friends from the silver jewelry store asking how I could live like that, what if something happened? I didn’t think anything would happen.

Which brings me back to the moment I was searching for a host in the South of Belize.

‘No no, don’t stay with that guy,’ – Juanita’s sister volunteered.

Juanita was my second host in Belize. And her family was amazing. Before her, as I crossed the border, I stayed with a guy from Jamaica, still a friend today.

Juanita’s family was so much more than I could have ever dreamt of having as a couchsurfing host. The mother, the daughter, the sister, the husband, the kids… They instantly felt like family. And they are. Ask Juanita if she has a three year old in Mexico today: ‘She’s my baby, too!’ – my friend will tell you straight away.

It was my first time staying with them and the friendship was only beginning. I didn’t think anybody else in Belize could treat me so well, and I needed to plan my 30 day visit in the country well. Sure, Belize is small, but I wanted to squeeze in as much as I could within that time. So knowing my stops and finding my hosts was an important task at hand.

There was a big difference after I crossed the border. From the noise of the state capital in Mexico I came to a sleepy border town in Belize. The time seemed to have slowed down there. But I loved it! As I sat on the bus next to a local boy, I started chatting to him, and to every question I asked he’d reply: ‘Yes, Miss’ or ‘No, Miss’. Now this was something new to me. Nobody called me Miss before. This young boy just met me, yet he was so polite. ‘Why do you call me ‘Miss’?’ – I asked him. ‘Because I respect you, Miss’ – he replied without losing a heartbeat.

What I fell in love with from the start was the diversity of this small nation. Different ethnic communities live side by side in this country, they are all brothers and sisters. I found that heart warming after the racist attacks you kept hearing about in the States and kept hearing whispers about in Mexico.

As a tourism destination, it packs a punch, too. When my Peruvian and I were considering visiting Belize, we were warned by other travelers of this country being very expensive, and neighboring Honduras and Guatemala being able to offer the same or better for much less. So we skipped it then.

This time I was on my own and I was already here. But by then I had seen enough of pretty beaches and picture perfect Caribbean islands, so I was exploring inland only. I didn’t find sky reaching mountains or deep canyons. I did find small and simple things to explore, enjoy and appreciate. And I was welcomed by extremely friendly people.

There is a downside to living in Belize, too (that’s what I thought in the first two weeks). Buying food in the hot supermarket with limited choice of products is not fun. I was used to the blaring A/C and anything my heart wished for browsing the isles of Walmart or another big chain supermarket on the other side. But very soon I got to appreciate the local markets and the fresh produce. Less choice is better (that’s what I thought on week three). Life seems simpler that way.

I now know much more than when I first stepped into the country, though. There’s trouble, injustice, struggle and tears. There is all that. But then, then my journey was just beginning and to make sure I had a roof over my head was my top priority.

I kept re-reading the profile of the only host in Punta Gorda. One of the references kept jumping in front of my eyes: ‘I woke up and my camera was gone’, – some girl complained. I didn’t need drama. I didn’t want to wake up and find my things missing. That’s why Juanita’s sister kept telling me to stay away.

And so I listened.

The (lack of) men in my life

I feel like in these past couple of weeks I’d gone from zero to hero and become this femme fatale.

Mind you, it didn’t last long. Just a few days later I was back to zero. No!..

Here is what happened in between the two zeros.

As you well know, I’d been mopping around for the longest time, not getting any attention whatsoever from any man alive (the Walmart delivery man still keeps coming, bless him). When suddenly I seemed to have four (FOUR!) men (REAL!) in my life:

  • London boy. Yes, that same one. I got to know him a year ago on bumble.com, when the pandemic was in full swing. And by ‘getting to know him’ I mean just that. We have never met in person… I call us (and he agrees) the modern day pen pals. He’s the one I was and still am infatuated with. I believe we are a match made in heaven and I know he is perfect for me. He, on the other hand, is on the flight to the USA to meet his new girlfriend as we speak, to get married and have babies. Still, he’s been a figure in my life for a year, which is a lot. I like talking to him and I’d call him a good friend. ‘You get on my nerves, I get on yours. That’s how it is, babe’ – being sweet and adorable is not his forte. Every time I see a missed video call from him (my phone is ALWAYS on silent), the message follows: ‘I didn’t mean to call’. It makes me smile. London boy doesn’t ‘do’ emotions. He always listens to his head. In my opinion, though, he should for once listen to his heart, come to Mexico and marry me!
  • The guy from Belize. He’s been in my life for longer than London boy, close to two years now. Thanks to the social media we started talking while I was still in Europe and he visited me once I came back to Mexico a year and a half ago. He lives about an hour away from here so it was easy to see each other. But then just like that, he disappeared. I didn’t hear or see him again. Until very recently, when he came to see me again and I laid my head on his shoulders and just breathed. It felt good to spend an afternoon with a man who’s kind, caring and damn good looking.
  • The traveler (with one l). We’d been on a date (thank you, tinder.com) a few months ago. It was very low key and that’s what liked about it. I didn’t have to worry about trying to impress him, it was like meeting an old friend. We had a great time laughing and sharing stories. And we keep in touch still, asking what each of us is up to every couple of days. He keeps travelling, so he moves from one place to another, but he’s still in Mexico. And he wants to see me again. ‘I really want to see you again. It would be nice at least to hold you in my arms’, – he says in his message.
  • The Canadian guy. Remember how I told you I stopped using all the dating apps? I did, till I started using them again. What can I say, swiping right still gives me hope that one day… And one day this guy did not hesitate and asked to meet. I did not hesitate and asked where. We met twice and although going on both dates with a toddler is a very different story (please don’t ask to elaborate), I think he enjoyed it as much as we did.

Today everything is back to usual: the delivery man is due to bring my groceries today; London boy is sitting happily on the plane; Belizean guy has disappeared again; the traveler keeps traveling; the Canadian guy went back home. It was fun while it lasted and it felt good to feel wanted.

It also felt great to be reminded that I was an interesting person and a great company, all on my own. Sometimes I am genuinely surprised that people like me or that they want to spend time with me. That they miss me and want to see me again.

When I travelled with my Peruvian, he always was the center of attention. Mostly because of the language. My Spanish may be half decent these days, but it wasn’t when I started travelling. So I always held back and let him do the talking. He was smart and charming, so he had no problems making fast friends with people we met along the way. Me? I took a back seat and took my time. However, the people I connected with are my dear friends till today.

Travelling alone did lots of good for me. I couldn’t hide behind somebody else’s back. I held my conversations and shared my experiences. People got to know the real me. Sure, being on your own with two backpacks in tow brings its own hardships. Going to the bathroom is the trickiest part, when you need to drag all the stuff with you and squeeze it all into a tiny cubicle. And, I admit, I was never a light packer.

And so, as ending up on an old American school bus crossing the Mexican – Belizean border, I was starting a new chapter, that turned out into a magical story book.

The pursuit of…

‘Are you happy?’ – she asks me.

‘Yes, because I have you’, – I say.

‘Are you happy?’ – I ask her.

‘Yes, because I have you’ – she replies.

Young children live in the permanent state of happiness.

Can you blame them? They only want what is fun, and they want it now. When they don’t get it, they cry and they stomp their feet. Not being able to go to the park because it’s raining outside is the end of the world for them. Sometimes I feel like a child, just can’t stomp my feet.

I watched ‘The Pursuit of happyness‘ a couple of weeks ago. I am pretty sure I had seen it before. How could I not, Will Smith is in it, so I must have seen it! This time the story played on my heartstrings. How much has a parent got to do to survive, to pull through. How one just doesn’t give up, because he can’t afford to, because there’s a little person who needs him. And how imagination and games make it all so much easier on our little ones. How amazingly beautiful and at the same time awfully hard it is to be a parent.

These days I work eight hours a day, five days a week. I feel constantly tired and can’t find time for anything, especially myself. Back then I worked twelve hours a day, six days a week. And during my weekly day off I managed to clean the house, do my laundry, buy groceries and enjoy the beach.

How? How was it all possible back then?

Five years doesn’t seem to be such a long time, in the scheme of things. But how everything has changed. Hell, things drastically changed in two years for me!

After I ran away from Spain, I emerged myself into a very comfortable routine in Mexico. I didn’t care about boys. That was definitely not on my mind. Mark my words, love does find you when you least expect it. Funnily enough, I tend to forget that.

I was quite happy with my twelve hour shifts, to be honest. Oh, it wasn’t easy, but the money at the end of the day was good. Besides, the job was not stressful at all. I just had to get used to the following:

-power cuts

-flooded streets

-no running water in the bathroom at work

-people being late

The hours I’d spend waiting for the store to open, sat on a bench next to it and having conversations with whoever was in a mood for it. To me 10 am meant arriving 10 min early. To Mexicans it meant showing up at about 10.30 am or so. Remember what I said about wanting things now? Plus, not having any patience? Here you have it! It was pure torture… I just wasted time and energy getting frustrated about it. Being late is part of the culture here. But even after four years I still can’t get used to it. They even have a joke about it. Invitations to attend an event are sent for an earlier time, not the real hour it starts. But those who are invited know the trick. Mexicans still show up late, as they know they were invited early.

I was saving my pesos (and dollars) and was set on leaving when the slow season started. I had a plan to visit those Central American countries that me and my Peruvian skipped: Belize, El Salvador and Costa Rica. I read the guidebooks, I marked the pages, I was getting ready.

I promised my boss I’d be back. And why wouldn’t I? Working in the silver jewelry store was a great way to make money, to practice my Spanish, improve my Russian and my French, make new friends and even meet people from back home. If not for the shortage of toilet water!..

Soon enough April came. I packed my backpack, took those guidebooks and boarded a bus going to Belize.