Belize. Day 2: The Quest for Luggage

With what I am hoping will be my final dealing with American Airlines, I am sitting on the patio at the Smokin Balam and awaiting the delivery of my now Dominican bag. The curtain in the window behind me to the left is distracting me. Making me think someone is watching me from behind.

So, with minimal fanfare, I said goodbye to warm showers today, as there appears to only be one water handle that comes out at a single temperature whether in a sink or shower. It’s not as cold as it was in Pamplona, just not anything near comfortable for sustained periods. Rinsing, then turning off the water to soap in the warm air for a bit, then rinsing the soap off again bit by bit seems to be the least uncomfortable way of cleaning off the salt and sweat of the days excursions.

I am constantly surprised when I travel that so many other people are doing the same thing. There is an incessant stream of new backpackers filing into both the guest houses, another monster of a man just checked in to the Balam. Spares barely a word for me and goes to his room. From my vantage on the porch, I have limited visibility of almost everything, but total clarity of nothing, save the upstairs porch across the road; which I can tell you after many hours of intense scrutiny, is a very dull place. I just got my third layugh of the day at the old Chinese man crossing the street in a mesh tank-top that would look out of place on anything but a low rent male stripper. Or Cher.

Man’s search for coffee has ended today at Moon Clusters. This coffee shop is a short walk down Queen Street past the police station. The whole place is hand painter and though the coffee is only fair by USA standards, it bears mention for the paint job.

Still no sign of American Airlines.

I met my first Belizean Couchsurfer today. I feel like I am being spoiled. Everyone here speaks Enlgish. Jaime and I ate lunch at Senor Coconut and it was great. The restaurant is out of chicken today, which does not appear to be an unusual occurrence, and so I had fillet o’ fish with rice and beans. Fresh squeezed orange juice was also provided, though ice was included before I could say ‘sin hielo.’ Let’s hope the whole ”Don’t drink the water” advice doesn’t come in to play here.  Jaime is an administrator at the local hospital and has to get back to work, but offers to swing back by after lunch and pick me up to go out tonight. I accept. This gives me about two more hours to write, think, get my bag, and get hungry again.

I just saw the closest thing to a proper sport bike i’ve witnessed since arriving. A Kawasaki 250R. Shameful. I’ve walked nearly the length and breadth of Belize City and seen mostly battered 125’s or smaller.

Finally, my bag is here. Nothing seems to be missing, but my travel size shower gel has come open in my toiletries bag and slimed a few things. I’m glad I had the presence of mind to separate all the toiletries into smaller groups and put them in different smaller bags inside the larger toiletries bag. Thus the pollution was localized and easily cleaned.

I just rented a simcard from the Balam and added ten dollars to it, Belize dollars, and I’ll have a telephone number for the next few days while I am scuba diving in Caye (pronounced key) Caulker. It’s 011-501-628-2003 if anyone feels like giving a shout. I believe incoming calls are free, but will find out soon enough if people start calling me.

I am in need of a shower again, some 8 hours after my last shower. I was probably in need of a shower about 2 hours after my last one by North American standards.

Somehow, there is a wireless signal, weak though it is, at certain points on the balcony at the Balam. If anyone ever does stay here, it appears to be strongest at the top of the stairs; there is a bench and small table there for easy use. I’ll try and upload this to test it out.

This has been an interesting day. I met G-Money Marlin, the Sprite messenger. I saw the doppleganger of my friend Emma Jean Flynn. I met a man from Chile, by way of Sweden, who told me of how he fell in love with a Cuban hooker about 5 minutes into our first conversation. I went to a coffee shop next to a barber/laboratory. I walked all over the city, again, and saw that some things aren’t so different between Belize and the USA; never walk down a street that has sneakers hanging from the power lines overhead.

In a few minutes, I’m going to re-assemble my backpack  and go grab dinner with Jaime and my new hooker loving friend and find some food and wild conversation. I may stay at Jaime’s place tonight based on his internet and shower situation, as he was kind enough to offer his couch.

Tomorrow, the Hungry Monkey!