belize

it is night and the whole world seems to have fallen into a gentle silence. inside the small thatched roof hut a lamp burns and from a couple steps outside the light can be seen through the cracks in the planks of wood that are the hut´s walls.

a couple more steps and I am in complete darkness except..

it looks like the night sky has fallen. They are all around me- dancing, flitting, floating, flickering- hundreds, thousands of fireflies lighting up the night. I walk away from the hut and to the open field at the top of the hill. There I sit in the wet grass and watch them; a moving canvas of light, of shooting stars.. sporadic.. breathtaking.

at night my sleep is deep, my dreams are strange, and I am the first one to awake in the morning of Cam, Allison and i. The family is already up. A fire has been lit, the chickens have been let out and are running around pecking the ground; last night´s dishes are being washed, and the second oldest daughter, Angela, is grinding corn for tortillas. She asks me if I would like to learn, I say I would, and my are muscles are soon awoken as I attempt to turn the handle on the corn grinder.

it is a day of simplicity. We explore up river in the jungle, help make tortillas, play soccer in the field, attend ¨church¨in the back of the hut, play uno with the kids, and learn new words from the beautiful language of Mopan. All 3 meals are eaten together, and we share in laughter and fellowship throughout the day.

when Cam, Allison, and I got on the bus at 4 in the morning the next day we were leaving with beautiful memories of Hemeterio, Matilda and their 4 children- Roberto, Rosa, Elvira, and Angela.

Belize was, is a confusing, poor, and pushy country-
and though I will remember it as dirty streets, begging men, and unsmiling cities- I will remember too with great fondness these few days we spent sharing in the life, environment, and generosity of a Mayan family.