As a
newcomer to Belize I have become accustomed to not knowing. Not knowing if I can find my favorite
cereal. Now there is a problem. A box of Kellogg’s cereal is as high as $9.00
here. Not kidding. Not knowing if that sound outside my window
at night is something that will eat me if given opportunity. Not knowing if I can do laundry because there
is no water. Not knowing if that
oncoming car in my lane will make it back to his own side after passing the
loaded bus in front of us. These are all
things directly related to living in Belize.
There are
some things that happen here that could happen back in the states. The other night I told Dennis that there was
an unpleasant aroma coming from the little kitchen area. It wasn’t too terrible so we waited for
further investigation the next day. By
then we could identify the aroma as something that was definitely deceased. At first I went outside to see if there was a
dead thing out there but it was all clear.
Dennis grabbed a flashlight and started checking behind the unused
washing machine in the corner.
Nothing. The smell was becoming
quite nasty. He looked behind the new
stove and then the new fridge.
Nothing. Then he opened the oven
door and in a real ominous tone said, “Well, there it is.” These words would have concerned even the
most hardy of women, but remember we are in Belize. I took about four steps back, almost
panicking and squealed. (Dennis says
squealed, I prefer exclaimed.) “What is
it?” He looked at me and laughed, “A
pork chop!” Yes, it was the dreaded Belizean
pork chop. We had tried them for the
first time about four nights ago. This
one was the victim of an overstressed wife who can easily forget simple little
things like food in the oven. I’m sure
we’ve all forgotten food in the oven before, right? Just glad it wasn’t the giant dead iguana I
was imagining. Or, our friendly,
bug-eating gecko that I accidently sprayed with bug spray the other night.
Love you
guys!