So let me tell you a few differences between Belize and the rest of Central America. English is the first language. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed speaking my native tongue. It just makes me happy to communicate without waving my arms in the air and saying ‘bueno’ all the time. I like the beauty of language and not being able to employ it makes me a little sad and a lot frustrated. I also love the way Belizeans speak. It’s very Caribbean Creole. It is Fun-da-Mentaleee attractive to the ear and a Dee-lishusss treat that needs little thought to tune into. So there’s that. Secondly, if you’re in a bar in Belize and order a beer, they bring you a beer, like, straight away. No messing. I mean, that’s what you want right? Not a 20 minute delay and shrug of Latino shoulder when it arrives. You order beer, you get beer. Fantastic. They also do beers in buckets as standard. It's an efficiency thing. Why make 7 trips to a customers table when you can just shove 7 beers in a bucket with some ice and let the poor old chap get pickled at his own pace without interruption?
Being on the Caribbean coast, you'd expect Belizeans to be laid back, right? Well they are indeed so laid back they have the tarmac burns on their spines to prove it. It must have at least something to do with all the weed. I’ve not indulged on this trip. I’ve not felt like it. And my previous very limited exposure to it gave me no burning desire to go back for more. But I’ve been around the sweet aroma of the stuff since my passport was stamped in the immigration office and it seems to keep everyone in a self-induced state of benign happiness. I wonder if Aldous Huxley wrote Brave New World while on a trip to Belize? It certainly has the feel of a Soma fuelled society in many ways.
Being on the Caribbean coast, you'd expect Belizeans to be laid back, right? Well they are indeed so laid back they have the tarmac burns on their spines to prove it. It must have at least something to do with all the weed. I’ve not indulged on this trip. I’ve not felt like it. And my previous very limited exposure to it gave me no burning desire to go back for more. But I’ve been around the sweet aroma of the stuff since my passport was stamped in the immigration office and it seems to keep everyone in a self-induced state of benign happiness. I wonder if Aldous Huxley wrote Brave New World while on a trip to Belize? It certainly has the feel of a Soma fuelled society in many ways.
I fear in my last post I painted Belize as a 3rd world shit pot. Let me just give you an example that redresses the balance. Last night I had a T-bone steak with salad and fries with a glass of Merlot for about £18. And for breakfast I had the most wonderful eggs benedict with two cups of Earl Grey to wash it down. If Belize IS the 3rd world, then the 3rd world isn’t a terrible place to be.
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