Part two, the next eight days of my diary of stay in Belize. I traveled outside of Belize City, visiting Belmopan, the country’s capital, and then San Ignacio, situated on the border with Guatemala. These days have changed my outlook on the country. Next adventure: living on the island of Cay Caker.
Day 6
It was a good day, and I got up ready for travel to Belmopan, the capital of Belize. I had planned to travel by bus, but while I was sitting in the hotel lobby, Mr. Edwards arrived and offered to take me with him. The trip was fine, like traveling the back roads of Virginia. On the way, we passed the road to the Village of Peace, a refugee camp comprised of El Salvadorans, Guatemalans, and Belizeans. Mr. Edwards said he owns about 30 acres of land at the crossroads of the village, about three miles from the main road across the Belize River. Said he owns other pieces of land along the main road to the capital. Mr. Edwards left me at the marketplace because he had to go to a meeting.
The capital is very clean and neat, which was a significant change from Belize City. The population is about 4,000. The capital reminds me of a large college campus and is designed like a park, with ample space for future development. I walked around, and I could tell people knew I was new in the city. I would rather stay here than in Belize City.
After walking around, I just sat at the market near the bus stop and watched the people. There were people from diverse backgrounds. In the area where cattle ranching is practiced, I saw many along the road on the way to the capital. There were many men riding horses to round up the cattle. I saw people taking the bus traveling to and from Guatemala, such as a family of native Guatemalan Mayan Indians. It was something about the way these people lived, but I don’t know how to put it into words.
I spoke to the hotel owner, who is a friend of Ramon’s. The hotel, Circle A, is charming and is run by a black man who was a former policeman, having worked with Ramon. There is a restaurant and bar next door, which is owned and operated by Mexicans. The average meal costs 10bz, and they rent rooms for up to 60bz. We talked, and he is going to introduce me to a man in charge of the Ministry of Lands. I want to secure some land, and it is rumored that land prices will soon increase. The average cost of land is approximately $ 30 per acre.
The trip to Belmopan with Mr. Edwards was interesting, and I could tell he was sizing me up; I was sizing him up as well. I realized from talking to him that he is a speculator and is politically tied to the establishment of the country. He is a person to watch with some scrutiny, and he is an agent for someone or something.
Day 7
I was up early this morning to get some work done. I had breakfast at an excellent hotel. At the table were other people and two locals who were participating in a teacher training program. The lady at the table was from Canada and was here working on some agricultural project. The other man at the table was from, of all places, Alexandra, Virginia. We discussed Washington, and I believe he is married to a local woman. He is here working on a Coco project. He provided me with some valuable information on finding a house in the area.
After breakfast, I started walking around looking for a house. I went to the Electric Board, which is responsible for houses, because they turn the power on and off in the city. I was recommended to several houses. I saw one for $150 US, and it was a three-bedroom unit with all conveniences, except it was unfurnished. I looked at other smaller houses and liked them. It features two bedrooms, a combined kitchen and living room, and a small bathroom. The people who own the house live in Belize City. When I return tomorrow, I will look them up. The big house, which is rented for $ 150 US, is owned by a man who works at the satellite communication station. Two people in front of me want the house.
While I was walking around, I stopped by the Appropriate Technology Cooperation and spoke with the lady there. It is a program that is available nationwide. I’ll be in touch with them later. I went to the Ministry of Lands and spoke with Mr. Neal. He provided me with some information on buying land and will assist me with land when the time comes. The more I walked around and talked to people, the more I found out that they knew me before I knew them. News travels when new people arrive, primarily when they act and look like me.
When I returned to the hotel, I spoke with the owner for a while. I had been noticing people going down a dirt road in front of the hotel. The owner told me it was a refugee camp down the road, about two square miles in size, where Salvadorans are settling. He said that they had been in the area, clearing a lot of the jungle and starting a farm. He said the government had just started asking them to register.
I had to see for myself, so I took a walk to the village. When I was walking down the road, I saw houses that I would see on TV at home, in villages in El Salvador. People washing clothes in the creek, little houses, etc. It’s something about the human condition and what people do to others and what they have to do for themselves. I walked about a mile and watched the children coming from school. It’s interesting to watch a 5-year-old child coming from school walking through the jungle to get an education. Students at home don’t know what they have and how other people really want what they abuse.
I don’t know if I went all the way to the village, because after a while of walking, I started to get paranoid. When I first saw people, they looked surprised, and the children passed me as I walked down the road. I arrived at another area where stick houses were made, and there were no people there, unlike back up the road. I got a feeling that something was wrong, so I decided to go back up the road to the hotel. When I walked, a man emerged from the jungle and followed me on the other side of the road, keeping his distance. When I reached the end of the road where the hotel was, he disappeared.
On the way back to the hotel, I stopped off at the Frog Bar, which was the restaurant next to the hotel. There, I met another Canadian who was a citrus grower, specializing in orange juice. He owns approximately 50 acres, and we discussed the possibility of growing oranges and the potential revenue they could generate. While we were talking, an American from Miami came in who knew the man, and he spoke, took a seat. The man I was talking to stopped the conversation, so I turned my back and started talking to the other man. It was another “little you big him” type conversation. These other people are the same everywhere. He was talking to a contractor who had a son working there; I think his son owned the company. He discussed how he had to visit the job site and speak with the workers about their work arrangements. They were taking too much time for lunch, and starting to work precisely on time. The typical white boss mentality I experienced at home. They are all the same. I left because I did not want to hear that shit. The master-slave mentality was going full force.
I met a teacher from Jamaica that evening. We sat and talked about his country and the US. He received his PhD from the University of Wisconsin and studied at Stanford and other colleges in the US. We had dinner and talked. At that time, I did not particularly like the restaurant. It is run by either Mexicans or Salvadorians. I can see the racial differences between the people and also the way they are treated. There is racism here. It is more under the surface. But it is underground all over the world.
There is something I want to mention at this point in the trip. There is more skepticism among people here than at home, where they tend to discuss themselves and their beliefs more openly. Here, you see and hear the caution of people as a form of protection. I must remember to keep my mouth closed and take care of myself. Ideologies and similar concepts can be trouble in the long run. If I am to spend more time here, I need to decide what kind of path I’ll take. I don’t need to jump around and things like that. One thing is striking: no one really asks for your name or gives theirs, especially during the first meeting. People don’t exchange names after a complete acceptance of you, or they have heard about you through other people.
Day 8
I went out this morning to follow up on a place to stay. I went back to the Electric Board and spoke with the people who were renting the house I had looked at. They said they will be in touch with me. I talked to the hotel owner for a while and settled my account. I went over to the Appropriate Technology Center, which a local man and a Peace Corps volunteer from Montana ran. I’m glad I did not enter the Peace Corps. I spoke with the communicator about education, and he said that he was an honest man and someone with whom to do business. Most of the information about this country is misleading. You read of one thing and see another.
Everybody is scared of the boogieman. The CIA, they say, is everywhere. How many people think I am one of them? When I talk to people, they discourage me from doing business. Then they turn around and say you can make a lot of money. As I think about it, it seems better to think for yourself and avoid getting involved in big business, instead sticking to buying just a few good things for Christmas. The rich are too great. I may write a photography essay, conduct some research on the slave trade, and then go home. I’m beginning to believe that the whole international business hit is just that. It’s too controlled by both sides of the government. Every day, people are left out. I need to go away and see the real Belize people.
I started to get discouraged about the theoretical aspects of what I had learned about international business. The commoner with little money to invest would be discouraged from business as a whole. The CIA scene was real, and everybody seemed to be aware of this. It may have been just a cultural situation. In Sri Lanka, I did not encounter this type of situation, but I was not attempting to do what I am here for.
Day 9
It’s only been nine days, but it seems longer. I was up early to get ready for travel to San Ignacio. I washed some clothes, then mailed some letters, and went looking around for some business. I saw the black coral that they talk about so much. It averages around 30bz for a lovely necklace, and other items are less. These will be good buys for Xmas. I also went to the lumber yard to see how much mahogany costs. You can buy it for $1.50 per foot and get 2 3/4 in planks out of it, a good buy. Most get some to send home and make furniture. I walked to the station and caught a bus from Belmopan, then to San Ignacio. The city is lovely, looks just like a mountain town. The Belize River flows below the city and the hotel. I must take some pictures of the place. Most people speak Spanish, particularly many from Guatemala, and the country is about an hour away. I want to travel there, but I’m not sure. Had a few drinks at the hotel, which was very expensive. Almost everywhere I go, it’s better to buy a bottle of beer.
I went around the town looking for a place to stay. I checked out a nice-looking guest house. I went to the man at the desk or room and asked if he had anything available, and he told me yes. He told me to walk around the rooms, which were open to a large walk-around porch. When I walked and looked in each room, I would see a woman in the room. I went back to the man at the desk and told him that I had not seen any empty rooms and that there was a woman in each one. He told me that the woman comes with the room. I decided to move on and find another place to live. This was a Central American house of prostitution.
I walked around and found another hotel. The hotel features a swimming pool, patios, a basketball court, and a range of other amenities. It even had a dance floor. I still need to find a place to stay. It’s too expensive. While at dinner, I heard a man talking and thought he was one of those other people; I turned around, and he was an Asian from the US. He looked around for someone to sit with, and of course, he went to the first white person he saw. Even Orientals don’t identify with anything but light skin. When I get back, I’m going to write a book that will make history.
Day 10
I got up early this morning to do some laundry. After breakfast, I went for a walk, taking some pictures of the town, and then returned to the hotel. Around 10:00, I talked to the young girl at the desk. I told her I was here to look for some mahogany products. She told me that there was a saw mill up the road from the hotel. I went for a walk up there, and it was located next to the Belize Defense Force post, about a quarter of a mile away.
It was run by a British man who made furniture and sold it for export. The New Hope Trading Company. Caesar Sherrard, P.O. Box 48, San Ignacio, Belize, Tel. 092-2188, VHF 756). His operation was a small but very interesting one. He has a solar kiln and a group of people who make his furniture. We discussed, and he provided me with some prices for shipping Mahogany to the US. It averages out to about 1.50 per foot shipped to Miami. I can secure a container load for approximately $12,000. It’s a reasonable price. He also manufactures some good chairs that can be purchased for roughly $19, shipped to Belize for export with the necessary paperwork. He also had some good carvings in Mahogany.
When I returned to the hotel, the girl told me that a relative of the hotel is married to a relative of a large mill that I had seen was visiting. Tomorrow I’m going to speak to the owner of the hotel about the mill. I’m also going to hire the girl to do some research and paperwork for me on the Mahogany so I can cut some corners and get some work done. She’s very lovely and good-looking. Rick James said 17 and sexy. In the evening, I walked to the town to see if I could get to a farm guest house up in the mountains. I spoke with a policeman, and he told me that I could take a cab or a bus there. I don’t know; I may go or I may go back to Belize City and return to the Cay, spending a few weeks.
At lunch, I talked to the oriental that I saw last night. He is here on an Agency for International Development project with another of those people. They are doing a market survey of daily production. They are traveling all over the country to do the study. I also met a lady from New York who is here in the Peace Corps. She is retired and works in a teacher program.
After dinner, I was sitting around when the British soldiers and women came in, along with them. They upset me when I saw them with black girls using them as usual. I saw the same out in the Cay. The experience with the soldiers was an eye-opener. It seems that they were in the country to help protect the border between Belize and Guatemala. They felt that they could do as they pleased. The girls that they were with did not look happy; they looked like they were enslaved.
I have realized an essential thing here. What is needed is a Black diplomatic corps. I want to train Blacks who travel to countries and show the other side. I’m tired of seeing the scum of the earth in these different people using and spreading their tricknology all over the world. I must seek this when I return.
Day 11
Today was a very enlightening day. I was up early as usual to get a good start on the day. I had breakfast and then went to town to cash some checks to pay the hotel. I spoke with Elite, the young girl at the desk. She had been invaluable, so I wrote her a little note and gave her a tip. The attention I gave her was too much for the other workers there. There was some skepticism among the other people. I’m not sure if it was jealousy or a form of protection. She was very nice, but later you could see she had changed. I decided not to make contact with her again. Something was happening that I was unsure of.
The experience at the hotel with the Elite was an experience. She was not black but a mixture of local Indians and Spanish. She was talked to by someone of importance at the hotel. She was very nice, but later you could see she had changed. I decided not to make contact with her again. Something was happening that I was unsure of. The experience with the soldiers was an eye-opener. They were in the country to help protect the border between Belize and Guatemala. They felt that they could do as they pleased with whom they pleased. The girls that they were with did not look happy; they looked like they were enslaved.
Day 12
I left around 1:00 and took the bus back to Belize City. When I was sitting on the bus, I really noticed the multi-racial mix of the people in the country. There are all kinds of people here, a diverse mix of races and colors. When I was sitting on the bus, I could see the abundance of divisions among the people in the country. People who think the US would be simple are often those who hold status here. There were the bus driver, the man who collects the money on the bus, and the people who work at the hotel, among others. At home, these people are looked down on; here, they hold status. It must be the great divide between those with money and jobs and those who don’t. Even simple store clerks have a high status.
When I was sitting on the bus, I could see what the man at Circle A told me about politics. I have begun to see the different color shirts. They are made the same, but one party wears white and the other light blue. I was on the bus, and a man got on; I knew he was a man of influence. He sat beside me. Another man that I had seen in Belmopan got on the bus. You could tell he was a man of influence; he wore white. They did not speak to each other. You could see the political differences. Talking to the people, all say the government is corrupt. These are the everyday people, as I look, they do not wear those kinds of shirts. I have decided to stay away from the government and those closely associated with it. That includes Mr. Edwards. My first impression of him was correct.
Traveling through the countryside, I could see the mentality of the people in change. They want simple things. The people in charge claim they do things for the people, but that’s not true. I’ll never forget the look on Edwards’ face when I told him that I was going to take the bus to San Ignacio. It was a look of saying you are traveling with those people. I’m backing down, staying simple things, and with ordinary people. I don’t want the headaches and problems of the so-called big shots.
On the bus ride back to Belize City, I got a nasty cold. When I arrived in the city, I visited all the small pharmacies in search of some medications. All the medicines were from some other country, and they did not work. That night, I had a nasty sore throat and thought I would die. It had to be one of the worst colds I’ve ever had. I had considered visiting the local root doctor in the city center to seek some help. In Belize City, there was one of the largest collections of roots you could ever see, but I was scared to try anything.
I spoke with Ramon, and he suggested that I leave Belize City and return to the Cay, where I would feel better. I went to Fort George Hotel to have some dinner. When I was sitting there, a couple of four came and sat down at the following table. Thought I would have some fun. I asked which part of the states they were from, and after they told me, one lady asked me if I had ever been to the states. When I told her I was from Virginia, she was shocked—another example of a supremacy complex. Tomorrow I think I’ll go back to the island, “cool out” for a while. Collect my thoughts and do some writing.
Day 13
I got up early this morning to prepare for my return to Cay Caulker, but then I found out that Chocolate had not arrived today. I spent the rest of the day walking around town and stopped by Fort George to have a beer. I returned to the hotel and watched the US presidential debate on TV between Reagan and Mondale. It is amusing to see Belizeans watching the US election programs. The cold had me down most of the day, and I was up all night with a running nose.