Iguanas

The north side of the condo complex beach is lined with a stone wall that juts out into the water about fifty feet. 

This is the home of at least five Iguanas that live in the cracks between the stones and come out to sun themselves on a regular basis.

They some times leave the wall and wander through our yard.  (You need to enlarge this picture and look close.)

They walk right down the sidewalk by the pool.

They even climb the buildings.

The other day Gail and I were standing by the pool talking with some friends when I saw this movement out of the corner of my eye and we heard this “thump”.  An Iguana had fallen off the ledge.  He hit the sand, shook himself off and walked away into the bushes.  They do not come close to people and are not a problem, but they certainly are ugly.

Chicken Bones and Voodoo

To fully understand the happenings at Caribe Island Resort today, we have to back up a little. 

The POA (Property Owners Association) has a rule that property owners are not allowed to have dogs.  However, all of the neighbors have dogs and most of the time these dogs wander through the complex.  Several weeks ago John Smith, head of the Caribe Island POA, got into a shouting match with one of the neighbors (Wolfgang) for allowing his dogs on Caribe Island property.  Wolfgang had the final word as he walked away saying to John Smith that the dogs were not the problem but that John Smith was the problem.

That brings us to today.

I was in the condo when Gail ran in saying “Photo op, photo op.   Do you hear the drums?  There are people out on our dock playing drums and dancing.”

I immediately grabbed the camera and went to the dock.  Sure enough, there they were.

They came off our dock and headed to the next one.  The woman was wearing a mask that covered her face from the nose down and it had some awful looking teeth.  She was also carrying a pot that had some substance in it that spewed a cloud of smoke.

They danced and played the drums some more on the next dock.

 

When they finished on the dock they headed up to our complex. 

They went directly to John Smiths front door.  The two men playing the drums danced on the steps while the woman spread chicken bones on his porch. 

Everyone thought the music was great and even danced along and applauded when they were done.  However, it was found out later that the dance the men were doing and the chicken bones were a curse.

I asked the woman later what they were doing.

She told me they were blessing the docks, the water, and the fish.  She said that anyone who had problems could now jump in the ocean and their problems would go away.

However, John Smith did not like the dancing and the chicken bones on his porch.  He filed a police report accusing Wolfgang of arranging for these people to come and put a curse on him.

We will have to wait and see.   Are the fishermen going to catch a lot of fish or is John Smith going to have some kind of “accident”.

Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day is celebrated here in Belize just like in the US.  They have boxes of candy, flowers, balloons, and Hallmark cards.  The major difference is that they are all extremely expensive. 

We celebrated by going out to dinner with some friends from here in the complex.  We went to a restaurant called Rico’s just down the beach a little.  We had a nice meal at an outdoor table.

After dinner we went a little further down the beach to a little place right on the water because we heard they had some really good music.  They were right.  The first band played very upbeat rock and roll music from the 80’s and 90’s along with some of the oldies.

The next band started about 10:30 and played island-type music.

As we were enjoying the music, I couldn’t help but notice the diversity of the people there.  There was a lady selling fresh, warm, homemade banana bread and chocolate chip cookies.  Not such a big deal unless, like us, you do not have an oven.  (In this picture she was obviously taking a break.)

There were people from around the world—Us, Canada, Asia, Africa, the Caribbean Islands—all enjoying the music.

Well, almost everyone was enjoying the music.

We had a wonderful, entertaining, and unique Valentine celebration.

We hope you had a Happy Valentine’s Day too.

Horse Shoe Pitching

One morning while Wayne and Carol Flora were here visiting we took a walk on the beach and stopped for the traditional  Bloody Mary.

 

While we were relaxing, Wayne told us that when in college he was the intramural horse shoe pitching champion.  Well, it just so happens that there is a bar here called Crazy Canucks that has excellent live music and a horse shoe pitching contest every Sunday afternoon. 

I informed Wayne that I used to be a slow pitch softball pitcher which has the same basic motion as pitching horse shoes.  As soon as I indicated this minor interest in the sport I saw Wayne begin to twitch with excitement.  We decided to enter the contest that next Sunday afternoon. 

Since it had been quite a few years since either of us had pitched a shoe—actually more like a few decades—we decided to go a little early and practice.  When we arrived we got a set of shoes from the bartender and headed for the sand. 

Amazingly enough, the horse shoes were actually falling close to the box.  And, we got some really good news.  The notorious team of Roger and “Susan the Stare” were not going to be there that day.

We found the judge, signed up, and paid our entry fee.  Every contestant pays $5 Belize to enter and the winning team takes the pot.  It was double elimination so you had to lose twice before you were out of the contest.   (I began to get a little excited too.  Maybe I could supplement my retirement income with horse shoe pitching money in addition to my golf winnings.)

We sat down, had a Belikin beer and tried to relax.  Pretty soon we got the call.  It was our turn.  Although nervous, our adrenaline kicked into high gear.   Our opponents were a husband and wife team from the Seattle area.  Both were obviously highly talented and had honed their hose shoe pitching skills to a level superior to most mere humans. 

Wayne threw first.

His opponent went next—no points.  Then I threw.

My opponent followed—again no points.  It was going to be a long, tight, exciting, game.  Eventually our nerves quieted down and our natural skill and ability took over. 

We won.  We were actually in the winner’s bracket.  We sat down, had another Belikin, and waited for our next test.  Gail and Carol were almost as excited as we were over our unexpected success.  It took quite a while for all of the teams to finish the first round so we had another Belikin (possibly a questionable decision). 

Soon we were at it again.  This time it didn’t take nearly as long as the first game and our earlier success was the only thing that saved us from total humiliation.   Who were those guys? 

And it got worse.  Our next opponents were the dreaded Frank and Mel.  Frank was reportedly the best in the islands. 

Thump, fifteen to four, we were out! 

The good news was that although the winners got the money in the pot, tradition said they had to buy a beer for everyone who competed.  Beers cost five dollars so basically your entry fee paid for the beer.  The winners ended up with no money.  They really got nothing except being put on a pedestal by all the other horse shoe throwers, the prestige of being the best, the admiration of everyone there, the reputation among all of the tourists and locals of being horse shoe throwing champions. 

Who needs that? 

I guess I will have to rely solely on the supplement from my golf winnings after all.

Zip Lining

One of the things we did on our trip to the mainland with Wayne and Carol Flora was to go zip lining.  Gail and I have been zip lining before but, this was way better—it was higher, longer, and faster.

First we all had to get our gear attached.

Then we had to make the trek up to the first of ten platforms.

The ten platforms provided access to seven different zip lines.  The longest was 700 feet. 

Here are Wayne, Carol and Gail having just taken off from one of the platforms.  (If you click on the pictures they will enlarge.)

Here are Carol and Gail as they approach the next tower.

We had two guides—one was a "pusher" and the other a "catcher".  They were very safety conscience and each piece of equipment we were using was tested to hold the weight of at least twenty of us at a time.  Here you can see how the cables and pulleys were duplicated.  

If you look real close at these pictures you can see that this was a really exciting and fun time.  At the end of the day we were ready for the long ride home.

Mayan Ruins

Yesterday Wayne and Carol Flora treated us to a trip to the mainland. 

A taxi van picked us up at 6:15am and took us to the Water Taxi that departed at 7:00am for Caye Caulker and on to Belize City.    The first thing on our agenda was a trip to Altun Ha, one of the many sites of Mayan ruins. 

The road to the ruins was pretty good as we left Belize City.  However, once we turned towards the ruins the road became one lane.  Although it was paved, there were so many pot holes that we drove off the road almost as much as on the road.  When you met another car, both had to go into the ditch to make room for each other.

The ruins are located in the middle of the jungle.

Altun Ha is a place where the Mayans made sacrifices to their gods.  Whenever it rained too much, or the crops were bad, or there was sickness, etc, the Mayans believed the gods were upset with them.   They believed the only way to appease the gods was to offer a human sacrifice.  There is a big temple where they would take the person to be sacrificed (usually a young virgin girl).

They would gather in this large field

On these stone bleachers.

The leaders and high priests would take the young virgin to the top of the temple where there was a round stone sacrificial platform.

(I guess Gail felt safe here since she is not fifteen years old anymore.)

This was not just the killing of a human sacrifice.  They would take out the heart and offer it to the gods.  Apparently the young girl felt she would be honored in the after life if she was the chosen one.

It is almost impossible to imagine the mentality and extreme circumstances of the Mayan people that would have led them to offering a human heart to a god.

Great experience!

Chicken Drop—Once Again

Thursday night—once again time for the Chicken Drop.  Gail and I rounded up our friends Wayne and Carol Flora from Fayetteville, Arkansas, and Tom and Robin Sparkes from Calgary, Canada, and headed into town to the beach.   The crowd had already gathered.  The excitement in the air was fueled by the vibrating Reggae music.

The local business people were creating their products

And marketing their wares

We quickly went in and drew our numbers.  They were good numbers in great locations.  We were excited.

Robin was chosen to be the official “Dropper” for one of the drops.  She was a little timid about holding the chicken at first.

But, she gently, oh so gently, twirled the chicken round and round and up and down.

And blew up its tail feathers.

She then placed the chicken softly on number 92—her number.  The chicken, however, immediately moved to the other side of the arena.  Robin tried in vain to get the chicken to come back.

It dropped!  In an area totally foreign to every number we held tightly in our hands.  Over and over the chickens found the most remote area of the board to drop.  It wasn’t our night.

Since the big money had once again avoided us, we decided to take a group picture by which to remember the evening.

We unlocked our bicycles and began the silent ride home in the dark.  We were careful of the swirling golf carts, the pedestrians walking stealthily in the dark, and the other bicyclists—any one of whom could have been BUI-ing (Bicycling Under the Influence).

We returned home safely but disappointed.  The challenge of the chicken drop was engrained in our psyches.  We knew we would go back.  We would master the chicken drop.  We would bring that chicken drop to its knees. 

CHICKEN DROP-YOU’RE GOIN DOWN!