be your own palace
or the world is your jail

Independence Day in Belize feels like a month-long event, culminating this year with the Independence Day weekend. The actual holiday fell on a Sunday, which was great timing because it meant that Monday would be the observed holiday, while festivities began on the Friday.

Friday during the day, I was invited to march with the students of my village's school in their parade. I was treated to speeches, poems, and dances by the children, with plenty of punta and reggae music playing in the background. Then, we paraded around the village, decked out in the colors of the Belizean flag. Although the day was swelteringly hot, we made it back to the school in time to enjoy the treats prepared by the PTA (including yours truly). Later that day, I went to the river with my CHW and members of both our families. It was a great way to end the day. 

My birthday was during only my second week at site. Truthfully, I didn’t expect much (Peace Corps rule: manage expectations). And when I woke up that day at 5:30 am because of my neighbor’s propensity to blast the radio at such early hours, and then opened a box of cereal only to discover that ants had gotten to it first, I felt justified in thinking that. But I did have a birthday dinner party scheduled at 5pm, and I couldn’t help but look forward to that. The time leading up to the dinner was pleasant if uneventful, and I got ready for the party way earlier than I needed to. 

I’m happy to say that in this case, my expectations were exceeded because my birthday dinner was incredible. Held on a hilltop with a beautiful view of the surrounding mountains, I was greeted by town leaders, government officials, and other members of the community. I was moved by the fact that all of those who had planned it had only known me for a short time, and some of the guests didn’t know who I was 3 weeks ago. But they all came together and cooked a traditional Belizean meal (chicken, rice & beans, coleslaw, and watermelon juice), provided 2 cakes and a pile of cupcakes, and even some gifts for me. The warmth of my welcome, the unceasing hospitality, the smiling company of these former strangers who will be my family, work partners, neighbors, and friends for the next two years almost brought me to tears. I know it won’t be easy, I know that issues can and will come up, and life won’t always be  but the moment where the sun was setting behind the mountains and little rays of sunlight streaked the sky, while I was eating a piece of my birthday cake, was perfect. 

A little description about my site: I’m in a small village in the southern Cayo District, where the capital is also located. Our training was in the Cayo District as well, but my permanent site is in a more rural area. Farming is one of the top occupations, although tourism jobs are increasing in the area. There are rivers and jungle surrounding, and wherever you look, you can see hills and mountains. It's an ecotourist's dream, or really anyone who enjoys the outdoors. 

I’m only a few weeks in, but the nature that surrounds me still humbles me. Whenever I’m feeling down or stressed or overwhelmed, I try to take it in and remember that I’m living in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. I try to remember too that the beauty is not just reflected in my surroundings, but in the company I keep, the people I've met, both Belizean and American, while I am on this journey. I already know I have a strong support system in America, but realizing that I have built bonds with others in country can help those feelings of loneliness and frustration fade away. 

The concept of a host family still takes me aback, in that a family can open their doors to a complete stranger and feed them, look after them, and teach them about the local culture while being open to learning about the habits and culture of someone else. My own host family has been nothing but welcoming to me, and with every conversation I feel that our understanding deepens. I'm constantly striving for understanding, to know where a person has been, where he or she is going, and how all of this affects their thinking. Context is everything, both with language meaning and intent. Communication is most important, and above all I am grateful for a host family who not only talks, but listens. 

Dead fer-de-lance, aka pit viper, aka yellow-jawed tommygoff, aka an early birthday present for me (!)