Having decided to leave Belize we priced Barton Creek Outpost to sell quickly and put it on the market. We immediately received responses and it looked as though friends of ours were going to buy the Outpost. We put numerous other inquiries on the back burner and waited three weeks for them to come back and say they couldn’t make it happen. It was heartbreaking for our family but Jacquelyn and I had prepared ourselves for the possibility and in the end determined we wanted this place to go to the right people at the right time. Of course we want the right time to be right now, we have made our decision and are ready to move along.
As we are now proceeding with our daily lives in limbo I am filled with a sense of appreciation for many of the little things I have been prone to take for granted. Even our 9 mile dirt road now has a certain charm to it that I had forgotten about. My wife and I were in a small taco stand yesterday waiting for cheap food and I suddenly saw the place in a whole new light. The cheap plastic chairs, the dusty crew of thickly mustachioed workman coming in for cold bottles of coca-cola, the local music my 1 year old son was dancing to, the selection of “shilling chips” hanging in the window and the sweet, slightly mustachioed woman who ran the place trying to figure out how many 3 for a dollar panades we would get for $8.00. I am going to miss it all. As we were on the way home, along our dirt road, my 1 year old riding in my lap as I was driving, the wife and I were a bit melancholy as we passed beautiful Mennonite farms and then groups of Mennonites who greeted our familiar faces with waves and smiles. I will miss many things about Belize but the natural beauty of where I live, the neighboring Mennonites and our close friends top that list.
Two nights ago we went to Hode’s Place to join several of our friends for the regular Friday Night Fun. All of our kids run free in their orange grove and large playground while the adults chat it up and eat rice and beans, chicken fingers and the best garnaches in town. (I then sneak off with the kids for a giant ice cream cone) This particular night there was a new couple there, they had been in Belize about 3 months and were considering making a permanent move. I contemplated how we were at the opposite ends of our Belizean adventure. They had a little experience here already and were getting plenty of input from others so I didn’t engage them much but it made me think about the adventures they had in store for themselves. I might have even been envious until I heard a few comments that reminded me that some of their opinions would soon change and many of their adventures would be hard learned lessons. Good luck guys.
Lying here in my hammock on a Sunday afternoon, overlooking our swimming hole and trying to organize my thoughts into something that makes sense is an activity that I will miss as well. I cannot imagine that the life I go back to will be interesting enough to write about, much less expect someone to read about it. I have enjoyed sharing my experiences. For those of us who live here, especially those who live in the area where we do, daily life can be an adventure. We all pretty much take it for granted and forget that there is a world out there that doesn’t have to drive 30 minutes down a dirt road to get home, they flip a light switch on and get electricity, there aren’t hundreds of deadly snakes living on their property, some people may not have had to talk their way out of being killed by a drunken, machete wielding jungle-moron. Maybe some people haven’t even spent time in a 3rd world jail cell, been on multiple day jungle expeditions or even rode white water on a mahogany, makeshift raft with a wild Mennonite. What am I going to write about when I go home?
I am hoping it will be the joy of watching my parents with their Grandchildren, fishing with my father in law and my Dad, working with my brother and getting to know my sons, their wives and my Grandchild. In the end, I am choosing that over marathon canoe races across 3rd world countries. Admittedly, I will miss the adventure.