A lot of people come to San Ignacio, Belize to go on outdoor excursions, e.g. cave trips, rafting, etc. I used it only as a stopover on my way to Dangriga, on the coast. I might have stayed longer had I jived with the vibe of the place, but I didn’t, so I kept on going.
To get to Dangriga, I had to first get a bus to Belmopan, Belize’s capital city. That was a pretty short trip, maybe an hour or so. I can’t remember exactly, because I was fixated on the John Oates lookalike (circa 1984) that was on the bus. We must have had some kind of karmic attraction because we cracked heads as we were walking into the terminal in Belmopan. After that, I could suddenly remember all the words to all the Hall and Oates songs that ever got air play. It was a dream come true.
I waited for my next bus for about an hour, and it was prime people-watching time. A stout little boy of about nine or ten was circling the terminal, selecting victims to hit up for a dollar. He passed by three times before he finally asked me. I looked at him and said, “Why are you going around asking everyone for money? You don’t need the cookies anyway. They’re not good for you.” He paused for a moment, and then sidled away and on to the next person. There’s a sucker born every minute, as they say, and over the next little while I saw him stop by the concession counter three times to purchase mini Snickers bars.
Meanwhile, a Mennonite family had come in to the terminal. Talk about sticking out! Father in his round-brimmed straw hat, mother in her kerchief, and three blond tow-headed boys with their matching green shirts buttoned up to the top underneath their navy coveralls. I later learned that there’s a Mennonite community settled along the Hummingbird Highway (and probably in other places, too). They farm, and run a dairy, a bakery, and other small businesses.
My admiration for photojournalists has been steadily growing on this trip. There have been so many times when I missed a great shot – either didn’t have my camera out, or took a picture but failed to capture the moment — or haven’t wanted to try to sneak a picture out of fear of upsetting the subject or showing disrespect. But man, so many of life’s little moments are picture-worthy.
Dangriga was hot, and I had a hard time finding a room in my desired price range. Everything was either too rustic (I’m past the dorm stage of my life) or way overpriced. I stumped around to five different places before collapsing in a puddle of sweat at Pal’s Guesthouse. My $32-a-night room wasn’t all that great inside, but it was right on the beach and had a lovely little veranda from which I could take in the sunset.
The town itself was what I would call ‘authentic.’ There wasn’t much in place just for the sake of tourism, and the main street was made up mainly of grocery stores, medical clinics, hardware stores, banks, and a few basic restaurants. The grocery stores were all run by Chinese immigrants. I always find it interesting how pockets of immigrants settle in random places. I guess there are business opportunities everywhere.
When I asked around for wireless, I was told that the only option was an internet café (which I later learned was false – Riverside Café has it!), so I stopped in there at about 5 p.m., and was amazed at the length of the queue. As it turns out, it’s the place where the kids come to do their school assignments. The school teachers give the café manager a list of the current assignments, so when the kids come in, they just say, “Ms. Smith’s class, the assignment on the history of Belize,” or whatever. (Not that I could understand the Creole/Garifuna-speaking kids!). The café manager finds a file and prints it out for them. They later get it signed off to show that they were there to do the work. I also passed by some kids doing their homework at about 6:30 p.m., sitting out on the front lawn under a street lamp. It reminded me of the lyrics from the Dave Matthews Band song Funny the Way It Is – “Funny the way it is, if you think about it. One kid walks 10 miles to school, another’s dropping out.”
Walking in from the bus station when I first got to Dangriga, a guy in a white pick-up truck with some pretty fancy braids in his hair had pulled over and called out, “Hey, are you going to Tobacco Caye?” “Probably,” I said. He introduced himself as Captain Doggy, boat operator, and gave me the rundown — $35 USD round-trip for the trip out, and a place on the Caye called Gavriota where $25 would get me a cabana on stilts over the water (shared bathroom), and included all my meals. The two backpackers that Doggy was taking to the bus terminal nodded enthusiastically as espoused the awesomeness of it all, and so I said, “sign me up!”
I was to meet him at the Riverside Café later that night to finalize it, but it turned out that I didn’t need to as he passed me on the street again a few hours later and we figured out the rest of the details. The Lonely Planet described Tobacco Caye as a Gilligan’s Island, and Lord knows I sure do loves me a good hammock.
Hey, Laura. Guess what? I’m 99% sure that I stayed at the same guesthouse! It wasn’t too good, but the price was right and the view was decent (although it was rainy season and the water was murky). I remember making peanut butter sandwiches there (on the balcony) with a friend and leaving a piece of mine on my bed for a few minutes (for some reason). The ants–many of them–came fast. I had to work hard to get rid of them. I learned my lesson.
I understand your feelings about Dangriga. I felt similarly. I stayed just one night on my may to Hopkin’s Village, which I loved.
Anyway, this was fun to read. Brought back some interesting memories. 🙂
That’s funny! I had no ant problems, luckily. I do remember liking the rose-scented soap. If I go again, I’ll be sure to get down to Hopkin’s Village. Thanks, Lisa!