The in-between times

I have said this before, but at home, I feel like not as much can happen in a 24 hour period as it does here. There is so much to experience, to feel, to enjoy and it is ALL so new. Let’s see where to begin; I’ll start with Thursday. A good friend of mine told me that she had found out that a fellow classmate of ours from Sewanee was going to be in Caye Caulker, an island off the northern coast of Belize(?). He was coming for vacation; a get-away from things in D.C. and even though I did not know him well, decided he was in the same country, why not meet up. I know many of you can say similar things about the colleges and universities that you attended, but I can only speak of Sewanee and say that there is something about it that no matter where you find yourself, if there is a Sewanee person nearby, whether you knew them while there or not, you are instantly connected. Something about the “mountain” that unites you, binds you and you care not about past clicks or images, you only care that you both attended Sewanee, a place you both love. Those that did not go to Sewanee often refer(when you hear those of us that attended talk of our school) to us as people that sound like they belong to some sort of “cult.” I do not see it as a cult, but instead as a group of persons that share a common love for our university; we walked the same halls, had some of the same professors, we all fell in love with the wonderment and beauty of the place called Sewanee.


So, all that to say then when I heard a fellow classmate was in the same country as I, I did not think twice of going to meet up. Caye Caulker was a place I had not visited yet and I had heard it was a more laid-back island than San Pedro, the island we visited a few weekends ago. Unfortunately, my Sewanee classmate got sick while I was there(I think he drank the water or something) so spent much of the two days I was there(and unfortunately for him, his last 2 days before returning home) in bed. Friday night, I took a shower(oh and total side note-not all hotel rooms in Belize, apparently, give you body soap so I used the hand soap with coconut flavor so smelled like coconuts for 2 days:)) and walked around town(which didn’t take long b/c the island is only about 5 miles long). I was trying to decide what to eat and in the midst of trying to decide, I saw an ice cream place. For those of you that know me well, know that my favorite food is ice cream; I LOVE it (my biggest craving since I’ve left the states has been chick-fil-a milkshakes, mcdonalds milkshakes, wendy’s frosties and TCBY). I have been fortunate to have found some ice cream while in Belize but something I have always wanted to do, but haven’t done much in my life is have ice cream for dinner—but not just a bowl of it in my condo(b/c that I have done plenty of times), but a cone of ice cream while walking around—and what better night to do it when no one is with me to want food food, than Friday night. So, I buy chunky monkey(not like the Ben & Jerry’s flavor back home,but this was chocolate mixed with bananas) cone and walked around; you should have seen the smile on my face. I then walked to the pier and sat down under a glittering of stars; unbelievable really. I was the only one on the pier at the time so I decided to sing , pretty loud. For some reason the song that I sang has been in my head, playing over and over, the entire time I have been in Belize. “I love you Lord, and I lift my voice, to worship you, oh my soul rejoice, take JOY my King, in what you hear, may it be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear.” I don’t know who wrote it, if it is an old hymn, if it is an old Young Life song—but I do know that I love it. I love the simplicity of the words and the comfort it gives me. Now, most of you know that I cannot sing and do not like to sing loudly, but there was something about being on the pier by myself, that caused me to WANT to sing as loud as I could, and words that I love. On a night when I could have felt very alone and solo, I , instead, felt very loved, comforted, and held by God. It was on that pier that again, He met me and scattered a sky of stars to wink at me and put his arms around me as I sang, to my heart’s content:).

The next day, I awoke in time to get the 8:45am boat ride to San Pedro, where I would then catch the second boat of the day back to Corozal, but it did not depart until 3:00pm which gave me 5 hours to kill and San Pedro is not a bad place to kill some hours. I got off the boat, walked to town and stumbled upon this brunch place that low and behold served GRITS of all things. I started smiling when I saw it on the chalkboard and I knew I had found my brunch spot. So, I ordered my eggs, sausage(patty), toast and grits and sat down. Soon after I sat down, four guys around my age sat down at the table next to mine and I said “where are ya’ll from?”(I can’t stop saying ya’ll no matter how hard I try:)) to which they responded “Italy….do you want to join us?” So, I did, and then spent the next 4 hours talking to them about their lives, about where they were traveling and our common love for travel. In thinking about travel and talking to them about it, it made me start thinking what it is I love about it. There is something about traveling that expands you, broadens you, makes you see beyond the bubble you live in and helps to refocus your eyes on the bigger, amazing world in which you live. There is something about it that tears down fears(of maybe traveling alone), allows you to be completely yourself(b/c the people you meet do not know any different) and I have found, just recently, that when you’re traveling alone, you tend to be more brave and not afraid to ask a table of random guys where they are from. They asked me if, traveling alone, is hard and lonely and I said no, because I get to meet new people like them and I mean that. Yes, there are times when I would love to share beautiful sunsets or star-lit nights with close friends, but I also know that right now, I am here in Belize experiencing all of this on my own and can write to you about it but also experience some of it with the people I meet along my journey here.

So, that brings me to yesterday. I got back to Corozal after a day with the Italian men(that sounds bad!) and cooked some dinner and went to bed. Last week, I had talked to Albert(the principal from the high school) and his wife who had said they could pick me up around 8:20 for church. By 8:40, they were not there so I decided I’d better take a bus (as I was supposed to meet Mrs. Lacey at church) so I hopped on a bus and the whole way I kept praying that there could be someone who could take me from the cut off(the bus only takes you as far as the “Cristo Rey” cut off and then the Patchikan church is still another several miles down the pot-hole road. ) During the week, there are several cars coming from the cut-off to the villages of Cristo Rey and Patchikan, but I wasn’t so sure about Sunday. As soon as I got off the bus, low and behold, a white van pulled up and I don’t know if it’s because of the Missing Persons video from the 1980’s(where a little girl was kidnapped by a white van) or what, but I have always hated white vans. But today, there were mothers and children in this white van and I felt like it was safe to climb in, so I quickly got over my white van kidnapping fear and jumped on in. The only problem was that they were only going as far as Cristo Rey; Patchikan was another 4-5 miles down the road. So, they dropped me off and I started walking. I didn’t really think I would walk the entire 4-5 miles; had I been dressed for the feat, I could have but I had flip-flops on and a dress and the road was dusty, empty with only large stalks of corn(or maybe sugar cane) next to me; and I was already late for 9:00am church. Seeing how this road was not altogether well-traveled, I prayed that either the 4-5 miles was shorter than that(I could not remember if the distance between the villages was short or long) or that a car would come along. The first and only car I saw, after walking about a mile, was one that picked me up and it was a good thing because it started to sprinkle and I would have made it to church about the end of the service.

After church, Mrs. Lacey took me back to her house(and rolled her eyes at me when I told her I not only hitch-hiked but also walked a mile down the road) where she had a nice lunch prepared and we sat at her kitchen table for the next 3 hours talking. She told me more about what Belize was like when she first moved here; about her parents’ divorce; about her children and then she asked me about my life. When I told her I had quit my job back home because I felt a pull to come to Belize, she said, with a smile, “you are in the in-between time.” That was, she explained, a time when God had us in between a steady time in our lives when things are bumping along and in between the next time when new things start happening. She said that I am in that in-between time. She reflected on her own in-between times in her life and it was during those times, she said, that God taught her a great deal(not that he didn’t other times, but those times were more defined) and she grew, in her walk. I do feel like I am an in-between time—a time when my life is not the “typical” 9-5 day, when I am not surrounded by what I know and love and when I am learning so much about myself and about the Lord and His constant love for me. It is in this in-between time that I feel truly alive and real; not that I never have felt that at home, but there is something about this time that I do feel just more movement, more inside, more of God’s presence and well, more feeling. I am thankful for this in-between time.

After lunch, Mrs. Lacey said it was her normal Sunday afternoon routine to lie down for a bit(something my grandmother used to call a ‘7 minute nap’ which usually lasted about 30-45 minutes). We both napped for a solid hour and then went back to church for their 4:00pm service. The majority of the services here are in Spanish (with a tad translated for those Americans in the congregation); so while I do not know any of the language, I am learning the words for God, thanks, and Amen . After that service, Albert and his wife, Romaldo, took me to Romaldo’s mother’shome where they served me beans and rice(a typical Belizean dish) with chicken and fried plantains—VERY good! We sat in what they called the “kitchen” but was really a thatched hut with a stove, pots and pans, a table, a hammock(this one was made of thick paper that was used for sugar or corn). I LOVED this kitchen and could not stop looking around. They told me it had been there for 40 years and if I am able to go back, I will most certainly take a picture to show you because it is hard to describe. It was a kitchen, you could tell, that had seen many a person, many a meal, many a discussion; if only the walls (or bamboo looking walls) could talk. Over dinner, Romaldo and Albert told me about how they met and how he courted her, he was only allowed to see her for TWO HOURS once a week. It is Mayan culture that you do not start “dating” until you very serious about the person and intend to marry her. Likewise, the family can put strict limitations and guidelines on your dating life and Romaldo’s parents told Albert that their guidelines were such that they could only see each other every Wednesday from 6:00-8:00pm. Wow is all I have to say!

So, I am back home now; just ate some of Mrs. Lacey’s homemade banana bread and the Sunday night is quiet. I hear a dog in the neighborhood barking(that is something you hear a LOT of down here), the wind is blowing my hair and I am excited because I am to meet Albert at the high school at 7:30am for my first day of organized help, and their first day of in-service for the teachers. I told Albert I could do whatever he needed me to do and tonight, he said he might need help sweeping. “I can do that,” I said!:) I am just happy to be of service, to help out where I am needed and to have a place to be in the morning. Don’t get me wrong, I have LOVED my leisurely mornings of writing in my journal, going to the market, etc but I know that I am down here to do that , yes, but also to assist where I am needed, and tomorrow it may be sweeping! Bring on the broom!

This blog has been more of an account of my last few days—like a catalog of what I did—not sure if that is at all enjoyable to read, but it is what I felt like doing—recounting what this past week entailed, rather than talking about just one experience.

Oh and one more thing. Before Melanie left, we had(as I believe I have mentioned) two posters, one where we wrote “Belize-isms” on which we wrote down words and phrases that reminded us of Belize; on the other , we wrote “Hugs and Fingerprints”—hugs because that is how I describe God working in my life and fingerprints because that is how Melanie describes His touch in her life. So, we wrote several hugs and fingerprints while Melanie was here and since she left, I have continued to fill up the poster with other hugs I keep getting. When the Sports Servant guys left, they gave me an extra piece of poster that I immediately hung up next to the hugs/fingerprints one and since last Sunday, I have passed it by wondering what I am going to put on that poster; what other thing do I want to remember or capture about Belize. Tonight, when I walked in from dinner,I knew exactly what to do. I wrote at the top of the new poster, “more hugs and fingerprints” because I feel like I continue to feel the hugs (and the fingerprints:)) and one poster recounting those hugs is just not enough. I do not know if it is in this in-between time that God wants me to be feeling these hugs, one after the other, in such a profound and real way or if He was giving me them when I was in Nashville and I just didn’t stop to notice them all the time. I have a feeling that He is there, always hugging us, always reminding us that He is there, always embracing us to comfort us, to wipe away our tears, to make that smile bigger, to console us when we are feeling lonely, to remind us that life is to be loved, but I have a feeling that we don’t always give ourselves time and room enough to really feel it . May you stop yourself this week to really feel God’s hugs because I guarantee He is giving them...now, let Him.