- "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -- Mark Twain
What can I say? I am in love......
It was 3 am, the palm trees were swaying to the wind storm, and lightning filled the sky in the distance. Yet, lying on the boat dock wrapped in a thin bed sheet, all I could see was billions of stars above, the arm of the Milky Way Galaxy, and the mesmerizing flashes of blue from the glow worms in the lagoon below.
I have sailed 3 hours on a catamaran to the middle of no where. All that surrounds me is the chaos in the distance and the peace that is in my soul.
Then I realize, this is where I want to be.
Love is nothing but an amalgamation of the feeling of chaos and peace. Belize provided both ends of the spectrum.
The Chaos
Guards with AK 47s (Kalashniko
va) were everywhere, guarding resorts, compounds, and highways. Recent robberies of tourists prompted more security measures all over the country. Guatemalan from the border are getting smarter and more bold; they are often in bands, and target tourists regardless of whether they travel in groups or individually.
While traveling on a chicken bus from Belize City to Hopkins Village, passengers were passing around wanted posters of 5 Guantamalan bandits. The reward was hefty by Belizean standards, and the fund was put together by resorts desperate to win back the terrified tourists.
With all this going on, I wasn't about to give up on trying something unorthodox. Hitchhiking...
Now, I am pretty sure it's not recommended, but since there were no deterrent signs, we did it anyhow. As you can see, there were no cars in sight, and 2 hours later, we were still sitting on our backpacks on the side of the road.
Finally, a Belizean man picked us up in his tractor. This thing was going maybe 20 miles an hour at its peak efficiency, but considering how dehydrated we were, it was good enough to get us somewhere with water.
He offered us his lunch: plump oranges from his orchid. I must have died and gone to heaven.
It was during a conversation with him that I heard about the gross inequities in pay and treatment in Belize. On average, he makes $75.00 a month working as a guide for a resort. This is good pay, as he is capable of supporting his family and save a little to build his home. The resort he works for averages $500,000 net a year. I asked him why he does not start his own business. He replied by saying that he does not understand marketing and how to get customers to come.
This hit a nerve. I was in Belize to look at the possibility of building a non-profit educational camp for the local children. I want to incorporate computer training, adventure tourism training, business training and medical training so that children in Belize can be equipped with the same skills that North American children take for granted. The funding would come from donations from local Canadian businesses and foreign owned Belize businesses. If this man had received internet training, especially in search engine optimization, he would be able to market his business to the rest of the world.
Maybe this may not be such a bad idea!
Everywhere I have been, it is the same story. Whether it is tracking gorillas in Rwanda, snorkeling in Mozambique, or riding elephants in Sri Lanka, most of these business are foreign owned. Fear of the unknown can be crippling, and the typical xenophobic tourist wants a safe 4 star hotel with a bit of culture thrown in. Most locals, if given the opportunity and knowledge, can create something that is more genuine. Pick any third world country with unbelievable natural beauty or market advantages, you will find foreign owned businesses.
Growing up in North America, I have realized that we are educated to smother third world countries: build a hotel in Belize, employ the locals, but don't give them any means of creating their own economy. Start a factory in China, pay taxes to the government, employ the local farmers, but don't provide them with an education. The problem is two fold. On one hand, most of us believe that foreign businesses provide much needed jobs to the locals. Albeit grueling work hours and conditions, the pay is better than farming or fishing. In parts of the world where medicare and social security is non-existent, people take any job they can find because there is no safety net. On the other hand, most locals actually think they are better off.
This is where I feel conflicted. How do I tell them that they can live better lives? And that their way of life is just not good enough?
The Peace
Sherri, the Belizean maid who works at Tipple Tree Beya, invited m
e to her 300 square feet home she rents in Hopkins village. She offered me water, some traditional Garifuna food made with freshly caught barracuda, plantain and coconut milk. Afterwards, we took a quick bicycle ride to the home she is building in the jungle. It has taken her 3 years to build the shell, no windows, no stairs, no electrical wiring or plumbing.
She is quite happy with the progress!
In fact, she is happy period.
It doesn't matter where I go, people in other parts of the world are generally happier. I have yet met a Belizean who knows what Prozac is, or an anorexic in Istanbul.
Growing up in Asia, I remember taking leisurely strolls after dinner, weekly family gatherings, eating the cucumbers and tomatoes right off the vine on our farm, or curiously watching my grandfather slaughter a goat for the neighbours. In North America, most people are just a mess. There is no emphasis on deriving happiness from the family unit. Most of our happiness comes from external sources. Last year, I was quite happy with my tax return.
In Belize, I was happy for the simplest reasons: a good fish meal, chatting with the villagers at The Watering Hole, listening to Reggae music on the beach, waking up to roosters, quivering to the thunderstorm that shook the house, smelling the scent of mango everywhere, sailing on the catamaran that brought me to that 9 acre atoll, where I aired out my soul in the sun and everything just fell into place.
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UPDATE on other postings: My Mother has Manipulated me AGAIN!
