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belize journal - anyone with japan journals?

updated fri 28 jan 05

 

Dan Hill on thu 27 jan 05


Lisa
Thanks so much for sending your travel journals to the list, very
interesting to hear how others live and work. I only got through #3 but am
looking forward to reading the rest when I get a chance.
I would be very interested to hear from anyone with travel journals of
Japan,(pottery related), as I will be going there in April.

Dan Hill
Wilno, Ont. Canada


----- Original Message -----
From: "Lisa Skeen"
To:
Sent: Thursday, January 27, 2005 12:13 AM
Subject: Belize Journal #3 - STILL here....


I can't remember what I wrote you last so I'll start with Friday.
Got up at 4:20 to catch the bus into Orange Walk Town. Had breakfast at the
central park restaurants. They have an awesome vegetable market with things
you can't see at home, and the prices are crazy low even without the
exchange rate. Went to a cybercafe to use the internet for 2 hours. Then
went to lunch at a new restaurant and had Lobster ceviche and a salad - it
cost $3.50 USD and when was the last time you had anything with a lobster
even waved near it for that price?

After lunch, went to the 2ndhand store to get pillowcases for the studio.
Got 10 for $1.25USD. (USD means U.S. dollar) Then we had to wait a few
minutes for the stores to open back up from the lunch hour when they all
close.
After that we went to the grocery store for supplies and the stationer for
more supplies, and the wholesaler for cat food. Then went back to the bus
and central square. Went to buy materials for a salad; they're not real big
on fresh veggies for some reason here. On the way back to the bus I fell
down and 'bout killed myself, smashed my avocado on the ground dang it.

Two cultural notes: First is, the Mennonites are rude as all get out. I
was with Addy, who is tall, thin, blonde, white. We weren't wearing
anything freakish, and I had my hat on, so they really couldn't see my
braids, 'cuz they're tied up. They stare and stare, and whisper and get
other Mennonites to stare, and if you look at them, they just keep staring
and whispering. I finally had enough and stuck out my tongue at one. Geez!

Second cultural note: You ain't had the whole experience until you've
ridden the community bus to the next village. The buses are old Bluebirds,
made in USA prolly 1979ish. You get crammed in beside whomever has an empty
space beside him. Addy said that there are often mini-skirmishes when the
bus gets to a Mennonite stop because nobody wants to sit with or near them,
because they wear heavy clothes and long sleeves in the heat, and so don't
smell all that great (ahem), and folks shove in wherever they can to avoid
the Mennonites.
The bus comes through a village blowing the horn. When you hear the bus
coming you go out to the road and the bus stops for you. Cost is $4BZ each
way.

Saturday, we had a huge crowd at the craft center. Many children and even
some adults. We're still trying to "fix" this clay; it's really weird
stuff. One of the lodge guys is going to take James across the lagoon to
get river clay; we have a sample and I think it is better clay than what
they're currently getting from the well.

For lunch, I made a huge salad with oil and vinegar dressing (safest in this
climate, I thought), and we had salbutes and the pineapple I bought on
Friday. For supper, we had salbutes again (yum!) and the famous Pan Dulce
(Sweet bread) made by Sra. Lopez. It has the consistency and appearance of
sweet cornbread, but it's made with rice flour. She said she will give me
the recipe, but she cooks the bread in a wood burning stove, so I don't know
if I can do it justice.

I did my laundry in the big concrete sink behind the house where I'm
staying. Hung it out to dry and of course since there's been no rain for 2
days and because I washed clothes, it rained like a typhoon. We all got
drowned.

Tomorrow the scholarship students go back to Orange Walk to live for the
week where they go to school. Education stops at age 13 here, unless you
can afford to go to high school. Most can't, because it means boarding
somewhere in town on top of the cost of school. It costs $1500USD to
sponsor a kid for one year.

The Catholic church here does not have a Padre; the Father from Orange Walk
comes out about once a month. The man who owns the house where I live is
the lay pastor who runs the church, but he is not a Padre.

I have said several times I think how poor these folks are, at least by our
standards. Unemployment is REALLY high, and many live in shacks with
thatched roofs and no doors and dirt floors. (really) They don't seem
unhappy though. These are some very friendly and happy people doing what
they have to do to live. We are teaching Guillermo to speak English; he is
44 and unemployed, but he does some really amazing stone carving and is
beginning to do really great pottery as well. We are going to try to get
some of his work into a gallery in the States.

Today (SUnday) we did not go to the studio at all. Went to Lamanai instead.
The sign lies - it says, "Lamanai 1/2 mile". HA! It's about 3/4 miles to
the museum building, and then another at LEAST half mile to all the ruins.
They are amazing; you can't believe how big these things are. They are over
40ft tall. I only climbed up about 8 steps; the steps themselves are over
12" tall each. Y'all wouldn't believe the plants. Things that we grow in
pots (ie: FICUS trees) are HUMONGOUS here (wait til you see the pic I took
of the ficus tree here.) There are orchids growing in trees everywhere -
they're either parasitic like mistletoe, or have a symbiotic relationship
with the trees, not sure which. Billie has a walk-o-meter thing that tells
how much she has walked. She says we've walked at least 15 miles since we
got here and that was before the hike to Lamanai.

Ok gotta go for now; time to hike back up the hill for dinner. Getting dark
and I want to be able to see the mud before I step in it - the mud here is
slicker'n owl poo.

More later when I can get to the 'puter and make it work. Advice for
everyone: Avoid DirecWay Sattelite INternet like the plague; it's slower
than Christmas.

L

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