Wednesday, March 6, 2013

3-Belize City


               I watched Ikan as he turned on the water in the last bungalow to make sure the pipe he had just fixed didn’t leak. It had been a very different afternoon than what I had originally set out to do. So far we had fixed leaky faucets, changed numerous light bulbs, switched out an air conditioner, and replaced a headboard. I didn’t even want to think to myself how it had got broken. The sun was setting already and soon the streets of Belize City would change and the nightlife would take over.  I looked down at the clothes I was wearing and realized they weren’t exactly nightlife material. As Ikan picked up his tool box, I opened the door for him.
                “I want to tell you, thank you,” he said as we came to a stop on the small porch. “I couldn’t have gotten everything done in time if it wasn’t for you.”
                “Do you think I have time to go change?” I asked him.
                “What? You think I am going to la fiesta looking like this? Go to your bungalow, get cleaned up, and we will meet at the lobby of the resort.”
His smile radiated like a bright beacon in the dusky light of the sunset. I smiled back and then started down the steps.
                “I will be quick,” I called to him over my shoulder and then I took off in a hasty manner toward my own bungalow.
                I jumped in the shower and washed the day’s salt off of my skin. Some of it was sweat, but I was sure some of it was from being in such close proximities to the ocean. The water felt good on my skin. I could have stayed under it a while, but I hurried and dried and then went to throwing outfits on the bed left and right. The cocktail dress my mother had insisted I buy was the first thing I picked up. I looked at it and then the second outfit. It wasn’t much better. It was a frilly lace top and a mini skirt.
                What are you doing? This isn’t a date, dummy, I muttered to myself. I decided to go with the long flowy blue skirt and my fitted white t-shirt.  I threw my sandals on and looked in the mirror. That was more like it. I brushed my hair quickly and grabbed a clippie to twist it up in the back. I dabbed on a little pink lip gloss, grabbed a small tote bag and threw my wallet inside. I hurried out the door and turned to lock it. When I turned around, Ikan startled me by being on my porch.
                “Oh shit,” I exclaimed before I caught myself. “You scared the crap out of me.”
Ikan chuckled.
                “I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you.” He looked amazing. He had on a white button down shirt with it halfway unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled midway up his arm. His glossy black hair was still a little wet and it glistened by the now moonlight that shined over head. He had on loose linen type pants and he too wore sandals.  I stared at him for a minute. He was actually pretty good looking when he was cleaned up and not covered in dirt.
                “It’s ok. Just don’t make a habit of that,” I said as I steadied my breath.
                The trip up to Belize City was interesting. It took over an hour, during which I learned that Ikan had come to live with his Uncle after his parents had been killed by drug runners in Honduras. They just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. His Uncle was the head groundskeeper and he had been putting Ikan on miscellaneous jobs at the resort since he was nine years old. They had been offered a permanent homestead on the resort premises but his uncle had turned it down for their small house further down the beach in a small fishing village. I had made a mental note to make sure I would find my way down the beach to the village so that I could get away from the resort area and talk to some real Belizeans. I also found out that Ikan wanted to attend the University of Belize but so far he didn’t have the funding for it. I asked him what he wanted to major in and he had said, “Anything that didn’t require maintenance.”  We had a good laugh about it. He asked me tons of questions about Chicago and the US in general.  Before I knew it we had arrived back in the city, parked, and were headed toward the sounds of music and the smell of food. I felt my heart speed up as we rounded a corner and came in contact with a crowd of people dancing in the street to drums. It was loud and crowded. Ikan grabbed my hand and moved his way through them while pulling me along. He half danced, half tugged, but he kept me from getting trampled on. I figured he knew where he was going, so I just let him lead. We came out on the other side of the street and into a side street lined with carts and people selling items from plantains to hand woven throws. Ikan let go of my hand and smiled at me.
                “You can find anything you need on this street. They stay open all night during a fiesta. I have something to do. Stay here and I will find you in a bit.”
                “Wait a minute! You’re leaving me?”
                “I will be back in a just a little bit. Stay on this street and I will find you. You will be fine, I promise.”
                “Well at least take my cell number!”
                “I don’t have a cell phone. I promise I will be back.” He smiled a big smile at me and just like that, he was gone. For a split second I panicked. Then it dawned on me, earlier that day I had planning on taking a taxi all by myself. I would have been alone any way and if worse came to worse and Ikan didn’t return I could always call a taxi to take me back to the resort. I turned back towards the street vendors.  The aromas were simply amazing. Someone was frying something somewhere and I could smell a hint of spicy smoke as well. I made my way down the street as I carefully took in all of the sights. I took my time marveling at all of the beautiful handmade jewelry and pottery. I bought a hand woven bag first and then began to buy items to fill it with like fruit and spices for when I cooked at the bungalow.  I had just about reached the end of the market area when I saw an old woman sitting at a table under an awning. She pointed right at me. Her silver hair was tied back in a messy bun and silver rings adorned all of her fingers.  I could tell by the milkiness of her eye color she was blind and a chill crept up my spine. A young boy sat beside her and gestured for me to come over. I stood frozen for a minute deliberating on what I should do. After a few seconds I ducked in under the awning.
                “My name is Anhel. This is my abuelita Ora.”
Ora reached up and took my hand. I slowly sat down on the small stool across from her. She leaned over and touched my cheek. I sat still and let the old woman feel my features. It was a little out of my comfort zone, but I realized she was just trying to figure out what I looked like. She smiled a wide smile and I saw that her teeth were yellowed and she seemed to be missing a few. I tried to hide the shake that ran through me, because she was quite creepy looking.
                She leaned over to the boy and whispered something in his ear that I couldn’t hear. He got up and went behind a curtain to enter the building. He returned quickly with a cup and handed it to the woman. She handed the cup to me and I saw that it was filled with some type of small bones, some leaves, and stones. I guessed she was some type of fortune teller and decided to play along with her little game. I figured it would cost me a huge chunk of change in the end, but if this was how she earns her living, who was I to judge?
                “Shake the cup three times and pour it onto the dirt,” said Anhel. I gave him a smirk and did as I was told.
                I’m not giving her more than ten Belize Dollars,” I think to myself.
“Abuelita is an obeahn priestess. She doesn’t charge for her services,” said Anhel. I took in a deep breath and wondered if the kid knew what I was thinking or if it was pure coincidence. The old women bent over and touched the bones, rocks, and leaves. She froze for a few seconds and then quickly came up with another smile. She reached out and grabbed my hands so tightly, I thought she was going to break my fingers. She started screaming.
                “Akna! Akna! Akna!” I jumped up quickly. She was still screaming the strange word at me. I backed away quickly.
                “Akna! Akna!” she yelled. I turned quickly and ran from the tent.
                I moved so quickly I didn’t pay attention to where I was going and found myself out in the middle of the main street with the crowd of dancers. I turned around and lost my directional bearings. I wasn’t sure which way was which. Then my cell phone went off in my purse. I fumbled through it as I tried to make my way through the crowd to find a quiet side street.
                “Hello,” I answered.
                “You were supposed to call us when you arrived,” said my mother.
                “I’m sorry. I got sidetracked,” I said as I had to place one finger in my other ear so that I could hear her over the sound of the dancers and drums.
                “Are you having fun?” asked my mother. I could hear a hint of a smile in her voice.
                “Um, sure,” was all I could muster as I made my way down a side street.
                “It sounds like you are anyway. I’ll let you go. Call us later and let us know how it’s going.”
                “Ok, Mom. Love you.”
I hung up and looked around. I was on a different street from where I was before. It looked darker and scarier that the other streets I had been down. I only had two options, follow the scary brick road or go back out into the crowd and risk getting lost more.


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