I haven't been able to write a sensible piece since I got back to Caye Caulker. Too many weird, awkward and crazy stuff happening. A lot of silly stuff. Random madness. I've been staying in a lot, I'm almost bored to death. It's safe inside the house says agorophobia. So here I've been sitting all week peeping out the window & stareing out at sea, contemplating man's desperate need to recover spontaneity and depth in a world which has with technological skill made rigid, artificial and spiritually void.G-Rod & I partied ways amicably when I left Roatan. I've never been one who want's to spend unnecessary time grieving for lost boyfriends, I could never persuade myself I have lost something of irredeemable value.

So last weekend I met the South African's on that dinner at Roses that I talked about in an earlier post. After the waitress had made everyone at the table feel amorous with her forthwith sex talk, I had begun to see one of the foreign men in a more favorable light. We clicked with great conversation and sutle flirtations but left all else to the immagination. He left the following day back to Mennonite territory West with promises of seeing each other soon and thoughts of starting a crocodile farm in his head. My own Crocodile Dundee, he even looks the part.

FASTFORWARD through an un-eventful week where the highlight was the plans I made to go West with my sister Winds & also visit my interesting new bushman friend Crocodile Dundee.
I'm on the water-taxi to Belize City when my phone rings, it's BAD WOLF. I ignore it, I can't talk on the noisy moving boat. I meet Winds and we head to San Ignacio immediately. Half-way to Belmopan BAD WOLF calls again, she says "you wouldn't believe it, but G-Rod (ex-boyfriend from Roatan) is here on the island looking for you". Had I taken the call on the boat, I probably would have turned back then.

Oh Christ Almighty Saviour, where are you now?
My head exploded into a million simple stupid questions, those that seem to have no answer leaving me in a heightened agitated state of perplexed anxiety.
What do I do now?
Convince Winds to turn back? It's her car, she's driving.
Keep going to San Ignacio?
What is G-Rod doing here?
Has he come back to tell me he love's me still and wants me to return?
What about that crocodile dundee who is waiting to see me later?
What do I tell him?
Where's my pepitos?

and on.......and on.....and on.......the questions in my brain went for what seemed like eternity, until the cosmic universe exploded and suddenly my vision returned and the clouds in my brain cleared bearing a ray of sunshine and hope for all problems that plague me and mankind on a whole on this day. Most importantly, the immediate mind boggling classic case of "which bridge to cross and which bridge to burn" .

I decided to proceed with my original plan to head West. I knew G-Rod would be stuck until the next flight Monday back to Roatan, I had time to catch up with him tomorrow.
It was a clear day and the road ran straight up towards the small hill ahead, everything else is flat, grassy with swampy water pockets along the highway, nothing other than a few rolling hills in the distance, & mostly, lot's of mile marker posts. My cab-driver when I headed back to Belmopan on Tuesday told me that "it's not swamp, it's just where the government dug out the ground to mount the dirt higher for the road which is now paved. The landscape is also dotted with scattered little houses and the occassional small village & police station.

Wind's and I stop in at our nation's capital to get some chicken stuffed ducunu (corn meal), pepitos, water and on an impulse decided to walk across the street to a government agency which sells forclosure houses.

We were interested in some small government houses in San Ignacio, the hurricane shelter capital of Belize and gateway as a host town to amazing jungle experiences, ruins, waterfalls.

As it turns out, they had some available which sit side by side in a little abandoned sub-division. We filled out the applications and asked the kindest, cheeriest, humble lady we have ever met in any Government Office what are the chances of them accepting our bids. She said she would call us later.

We got to San Ignacio at our friends house only to find Crocodile Dundee in a state of distress because his dog had just died. Now I wished I could rub on a genie and transport myself to Caye Caulker, I was utterly curious as to why G-Rod was in town and this dreary scene was just adding to my anxiety. I would normally be very sensitive to a dogs death, dogs are my favorite animal. With all the stress in our heads (he didn't even have a clue what was going on in mine) gone was the sizzle, the schnizle to the fizzle with this new hopeless romance, at least for now. Later when I told G-Rod about my botched romantic weekend due to his un-expected visit and a dead dog, he said "as always my timing was perfect".

Turns out G-Rod's visit was accompanied by a real estate investor who has expressed interest in a property here on the island. Since I showed him the property, there is a possibility for a commission if the deal goes through. I'll keep my fingers crossed. G-Rod wasn't here to profess his love for me, but he might have made me some money, I have no reason to complain.

G-Rod left Monday after a hectic weekend and I managed to keep my word to Winds and headed back to Belmopan on Tuesday to put the deposit and legal fees on the houses since our bids had been accepted.

On an impulse, we are now the proud owners of completely gutted houses high in the hills of my beautiful country at nowhereville, and the price was definitely right!
I needed a new project in Belize and this is it. I feel like the poorest Caribbean developer in the.... well......Caribbean,...duh. I like my newly self promoted title and I can't wait to get started on some landscaping and maybe a little fence.


Anonymous said…
Things usually have a way of working themselves out!
Ain't that the truth catdance62. What started as a stressfull weekend turned out to be a winner for me.