e-lopers - Travelogue - Central America

Underwater Halloween	Location: Caye Caulker Belize
October 31, 2001 - Kiran

We've been spending our days mostly indoors, enjoying all the things we've dreamed of for so long... a firm mattress, hot shower anytime, good food, cable tv in English. The tv we'll get sick of in a week or so, but it's one of the luxuries that feel like home right now, and it serves as North American cultural prep time while tropical rains fall outside.

Today we get up earlier than usual and find the village to be bustling with activity. After a home-baked breakfast the sun beams down on us for the first time. We grab our chance. In half an hour we have donned snorkel and fins and are riding the waves towards the second largest coral reef on the planet.

We break into Underwater World, barely noticing the water thanks to our breathing apparatus and the room-temperature liquid. We poke around coral with round white brains, orange vein fans and wagging fingers. Colorful blue and yellow fish, fish with big dots, flat fish and long fish with saw noses greet us with curiosity.

Our boat makes a final stop and we are looking down into a large swarm of seemingly ravenous sharks. Everyone looks at each other with slightly disbelieving eyes. "Let's go!" encourages our hosts.

All of our masks suddenly need to be re-adjusted, with the exception of Geoff's. Fearlessly, he dives in. Once the bait has been offered but not taken, the rest of us decide our masks fit okay now and jump in with him (them). What an experience! One of our hosts is hugging a shark and scratching it fondly like a dog. He motions for me to touch it- it's got bumpy coarse skin, like pebbly sandpaper. Its eyes aren't as fierce as I had expected.

Soon the sharks' companions show up: stingrays. They are massive, and glide eerily through the water, as if in air. We swim with them, become them, forget where we are and have to fight the tough waves back to our group.

The clouds start to reclaim their sun, closing up the large hole which offered just enough warm light for our incredible trip.

Over and under	Location: Caye Caulker to the hills near San Ignacio, Belize
November 1, 2001 - Geoff

One more day and our year abroad is over. It seems so close and yet so far. The weather looks OK for us to get from the Caye to the mainland but Tropical Depression 15 has turned into Tropical Storm Michelle and is threatening to turn into a hurricane. The weather reports say it may move on from here to Miami later tonight. That's our connecting airport so we're hoping it dies out before we get there.

My hair gets tangled into dreadlocks and my kidneys get a pounding as we fight the wind and waves back to Belize city. The captian of our little boat uses the clusters of mangrove to shelter us from the wind until the last possible minute and then takes the brunt of the waves on the bow as we cruise to the ferry dock. I hold my hat in my hand for fear of leaving it with the sharks.

Our driver, Dan, arrives a little late and full of apology. He's in charge of getting us to Cahal Pech village, a group of cabanas beside a Mayan ruin of the same name. As we drive he explains that our intended driver slept late today and he felt he had to come to preserve the good name of tourism in Belize. It turns out that he's the Minister of Agriculture and Fisheries. We travel in style. His job is pretty tough at the moment as Hurricane Iris devastated crops in the south.

Minister Dan trades cars with his driver, Anna and heads to the capital for work. Anna apologizes for being a woman and asks us if Ministers in Canada have women drivers. We tell her she has nothing to be ashamed of and that we have female government workers with male drivers. She seems impressed and tells us so in her lilting Creole.

At Cahal Pech village we meet Eric who loads us in his jeep to go visit Barton Creek caves. We're trying to squeeze as much as we can into this last day. When Kiran hints that she wants some music (replace hints with demands) Eric's tatooed hand punches play and deep bass reggae vibrates our innards.

As we drive, Eric relates, with pride, how his jeep has navigated these jungle roads and rivers while others have been left floundering. Ironically, right after he says this, we find ourselves stuck in a river and sliding downstream. Water begins rapidly leaking through the doors. Kiran scrambles to save Eric's amplifier and we both tear our shoes and socks off. I jump in the driver's seat and try to help us off as Eric pushes. When the water reaches seat level we decide to bail. Kiran and I head to the other side of river struggling against the current. My pants are like parachutes dragging us down. Eric heads back up the road to get some help while Kiran and I try to dry off on the far bank. A local Amish man looks a little amused by the sight of me in my underwear and our wonder-of-modern-transportation stuck in the river. I doubt his horses ever have the same trouble.

Eric eventually finds a local with a winch (I thought we were in the middle of nowhere but I guess not) and pulls his waterlogged vehicle up onto the bank. About 10 minutes later he's on our side of the river and we start our walk to the caves. He doesn't seem worried that we may not have any way back. I guess by going on we salvage part of the day. It's now 1 o'clock, the exact time we're supposed to be back at the village for more activities. Oh well.

The cave turns out to be spectacular. We paddle our canoe through erie columns with only squeaking bats as company. Kiran and I have been given spotlights and their beams shine off the reddish stone. At some points the ceiling of the cave is 40 metres high, at others we have to duck right into the canoe.

The highlight is a natural bridge where the Mayans used to hold human sacrifices. The skeletons of 18 people were found here and one grinning skull still remains. Muddy clay pots still stand where the Mayans collected sacred water dripping from above. They believed caves were the origin of the wind and the rain. The place is beautiful and grim at the same time.

After about 3 kilometres we turn back, unable to continue as we are bound to get lost in the cave's many branches if we do. The cave stretches on forever. When we get back to the mouth of the cave the overcast day seems as bright as the desert sun. I miss my sunglasses. We eat a quick lunch and start the hike back to the river. This time we cross using a rickety suspension bridge. Eric tells us to watch out for the third board and that we should cross one at a time. We heed his advice. The jeep is waiting, still soggy, on the other side. Miraculously it starts and we're on our way back down the jungle roads. Our success is short lived though. Kiran points out that the jeep is filling with smoke and when we stop to investigate the last of Eric's transmission fluid stains the dirt road pink. The jeep isn't going anywhere. Again we start walking. Eric is prepared though and has a cell phone. After half an hour of jungle walking the phone gets service and Eric calls his girlfriend to bail us out. To speed things up we jump in the back of a passing pickup to get us to the main road.

Back at the village we spend the last rays of sun climbing the slippery rocks of the Cahal Pech Mayan site. We don't encounter any major danger here although we do find a pretty scary snake in the royal chamber. I think maybe this place is telling us to take it easy so that's exactly what we do. When we finally get back to our hotel, I breathe a sigh of relief. So close and yet so far. All we have to do now is avoid Hurricane Michelle and international terrorists and we'll be home. No problem.

Only two more flights to Canada!