On the western front of Progresso Lagoon, that is.
Lately, we’ve been pretty much staying put, except the occasional run into town for necessities. This has not been our modus operandi in Belize, so it’s been a little different. More like just living in Belize, doing things like hanging laundry out to dry and mowing the lawn, vs running around Belize doing super-cool things every other week or so.
In hindsight, I think August – brutal, brutal (did I say brutal?) August – must have been our Hump Month here. Because clearly we were suffering from a case of Subequatorial Homesick Blues (chin-up nod to Bob Dylan, ’cause that’s how we roll). And I think I had it worse than Ray, though he had his moments too.
For instance: The roads (which have never been good so this was not a revelation) suddenly seemed to suck so much that going anywhere at all – even the 2 miles to Progresso – felt like a magnificent royal pain in the ass. Except that sitting around at home dripping sweat, with nothing to relieve the stifling boredom brought on by the heat frying our brains to the point where we couldn’t even think of anything useful to do (and for that matter, the same heat also sapping our bodies to the point that had we been able to think of something useful to do, I’m not sure we would have moved to do it anyway) – yeah, that might just have sucked more. Some days we ran out of things to say to each other; some days it was better that way. We made sad attempts at humor – watching the temperature rise as we sang 96 Degrees in BUHLEEZE!!! instead of 96 Degrees in the Shade (good song by Third World, if you don’t know it). Some days we decided everybody in Belize must be idiots – selves included. Who in their right mind would sign on for this?! And of course, the worst symptom of SHB was that, even more than usual, we really missed our family and friends.
You may have picked up on these symptoms in some of my latest blog posts. Ice beater, anyone?
Fortunately, several rainfalls later, we appear to have recovered from the worst of the effects, and we’re ready to go with the flow again and enjoy the rest of our time here.
Apropos of nothing in particular, we were waiting at the ferry yesterday behind some Mennonites presumably transporting “lunch” to market. If you look closely, you can see the pigs in front of the cows.
While we waited, Ray told the cows that he hoped they had a happy life. I made up interior monologue for the one pig that kept trying to climb the wall (“Let me out! I’ll take my chances in the New River!”).
So maybe we haven’t fully recovered yet, after all. But we’re getting there.