Greetings From Belize!

Yesterday I took the train from San Jose to San Bruno, where I would fly to Belize early the next morning.

While the weather wasn't too bad in San Jose, it was cold and drizzling in San Bruno (just west of the San Francisco Airport). I checked in to the hotel and walked through the gloom to find food, reminding myself it was temporary and I would soon find myself in the tropics.

Not long after climbing into bed, I got an automated phone call from American Airlines saying my flight was delayed (where the heck was that thing coming from?) by about an hour and they would follow up with me if they felt they needed to reschedule my connecting flight in Dallas. I double checked my ticket. According to their new estimated arrival in Dallas, I would have about 5 minutes from the time we landed until they closed the doors on my connecting flight...two terminals over. That wasn't going to work. And I'm pretty certain there was not a later flight into Belize.

The hotel provided a complimentary shuttle to the airport at 4:30 am. Posted inside the shuttle was a sign that read "Your generous gratuities greatly appreciated."

While that does help clear things up for people who aren't sure whether or not you should tip the shuttle driver (you should), the sign also made me feel obligated to tip. The only thing I had in my wallet was a $20. I'm a grad student. $20 can be a lot.

The driver pulled up to my terminal and announced that this was my stop, but didn't open the door. I should've said that I only had a $20 or asked if he had change. I mean, we weren't coming from the Hilton, we were coming from Super 8, a budget hotel. That early in the morning, my wits weren't entirely about me, so I turned and faced the door, and noticed his agitation as I did. He opened the door and let me out. I felt like a jerk. I still feel like a jerk more than 12 hours later. Chances are, years from now I will still feel like a jerk when I think about it. I do things like that. Socially awkward situations follow me indefinitely.

Walking around the deserted airport by my gate, looking for breakfast, I heard a gate announcement stating it was the final boarding call for Dallas (a couple hours before my flight would depart) and that the doors would be closing whether the passengers were all on board or not. It occurred to me that some passengers had not yet shown up for their flight. I approached the gate and told the lady there that my flight was delayed and I would probably miss my connecting flight, but that I hadn't been re-booked, so was there any way....

I handed her my tickets and she asked if I had checked any bags. I had not. She booted one of the late people off the flight and let me board. Yay! I was going to make my connecting flight!

One of the flight attendants on board saw me and was a little snippy. "Oh, you must be one of our missing passengers".

"Um, no", I said.

"12D?"

"Yes."

"Is it 12D?" she shouted to the other flight attendant.

"I was just bumped up..." I tried to explain. Please don't hate me, I'm not the late person.

But whatever, I was on board, heading to Dallas, then on to Belize.

Dallas was fresh out of Belize dollars, so I confirmed that American dollars were accepted there, then got ones for my $20. I needed all the karma I could get and didn't want to insult another driver that was tasked with getting me safely from one place to another. Especially in another country.

In retrospect, it always amazes me how quickly (most of the time) you can suddenly find yourself in a totally different part of the world. I landed on a small airstrip just outside of Belize City, surrounded by jungle. It was cloudy but warm. Small island hopper planes parked alongside the tiny runway. They wheeled a set of stairs to the door to allow us to de-plane. Customs was a breeze. As a matter of fact, a guy working there saw me and my purse and backpack (medium sized backpacking pack), asked if this was all my luggage, took my customs form and sent me on my way, ahead of a line of people.

Out by the curb, people stood with signs. I didn't see my name, but a lady saw me searching the crowd and asked who I was looking for. I told her Global Village Hotel. She hadn't seen him yet today but would keep an eye out for him and let him know where I was. Two minutes later, he showed up and she pointed him over to me. He had a sign with the hotel and my name printed on it. He apologized for being late, but not only was my plane early, I hadn't checked any bags.

I climbed in the van, where a very pleasant woman was behind the wheel. We drove past houses in various stages of repair, most resembling something between colonial and Hispanic, but a lot of them had the living quarters on the second floor, with the garage on the bottom, like I've seen in House Hunter's International (love that show). It looked much like other Caribbean places I've been (Mexico and the Dominican Republic) where away from the developed sites, lay thick tangles of jungle. A horse roped to a chain link fence grazed on the sized of the road.

Maybe a mile from the airport, we pulled in to the hotel. The man waited while the lady checked me in, then he showed me to my room, how to operate the lights and the air conditioner "But it's pleasant now so you probably don't need it". It was about 75 and 90 percent humidity. I however, was dressed for San Francisco. I decided I just needed to change and my body would be fine with the temperature (humidity). The hotel is very basic but everything is spacious and the staff are incredibly friendly. Whenever I walk in, they jump up to see if I need anything. They've also volunteered to drive me to the docks tomorrow for $5 US less than the taxis charge. It feels very safe here, and I'm thankful for the familiar people to take me into Belize City, where it's not so safe. From there I will take a water taxi to Caye Caulker.

Also, like other Caribbean areas I have been to, a gecko just ran across my wall. By the time I got my memory card out of my netbook and into my camera, he had taken off behind the tv stand. I looked and he's no where to be seen. I hope he doesn't decide to climb into my luggage.

I should note that while Belize is located in Central America, it was originally part of the British Empire (thanks Wikipedia). English is the official language and it is part of the commonwealth with Queen Elizabeth as the head of state.

As fate would have it, the first place I ate was a Chinese restaurant. As the hotel is not located in town, there is only the amenities across the street: one restaurant, a bank (and ATM), and a market. But I did have a Belikin, Belize's official beer (I gather).

I ordered the orange chicken and listened to Lady Gaga while writing in my travel journal. The chicken was very fresh tasting, the beer delicious. It reminded me of Pacifico. They also had Guinness on the menu. A different world for sure.

The market was an eclectic mix of American, European (think Cadbury chocolate bars), and Latin American. I was there for bottled water as I was informed not to drink the water here (some places in Belize the tap water is potable, but not here as it turns out). Two large bottles of water for $1.50 US. You can't even get one in California for that price. Also, the exchange rate here is $2 Belize dollars (BZ) for every $1 US.

Also, the CDC does not recommend Americans in Belize take anti-malaria medications, just that they practice "mosquito avoidance". After researching my options and wanting to stay away from Deet, I found 20% Picardin (or something close to that) was the most reliable and it wasn't as chemically bad as Deet. So that's what I'm trying out. But it also says I need to wash it off before going to bed. Oh, and apparently the malaria you can get down here isn't the really bad kind.

Well, after several days of not sleeping well, I'm hoping to get a good night's sleep tonight (if the gecko and mosquitoes allow it) so I can get out to Caye Caulker tomorrow. Adventure awaits!