Same Place — Different View, Belize Students ’11

I really enjoy putting together these Same Place — Different View blogs. It always confirms what Arnie and I teach … seek your own vision. Just because the scene may be the same doesn’t mean that each person doesn’t approach it differently.

In southern Belize, it was yet another case in point.

We love visiting Eladio at his organic cacao farm. These cacao fruits are amazing and so unlike the chocolate that is made from the beans …

Belize, Xic we or Farewell

The last morning is always tough. I don’t know about you, but I’m always torn by the anticipation of going home and finding MooseCat greeting us at our door and not wanting to leave such a wonderful place.

We went to breakfast at our favorite spot down by the water and sat at one of the picnic tables looking out at the light reflecting off …

Belize, Last Full Day

I woke up early and went out to or porch to read until the light got interesting, then went out photographing.

As the sun rose, it made dancing reflections on the water. All too soon, it dissipated, and the day started in earnest. People started riding by on bicycles on their way to work; dogs trotted off to some important destination; the Ospreys left their nest above us in search of food; a Rasta-man sang nearby.

A bit later, we headed down the street— a sandy road, really — for breakfast. Freshly-squeezed orange juice and a veggie omelet for me. OJ and an island bagel for Arnie. A papaya-and-pineapple smoothie for my sister-in-law.

What I love about this small island is that if they run out of something, such as fresh pineapple, they pop across the street to any one of several small Chinese grocery stores and get a couple more. One of our first mornings back here, the restaurant had run out of oranges. No worries, Mon! In five minutes, our waiter was back with quite a few, and my OJ appeared shortly thereafter.

We did our usual wandering along the sandy roads, cameras in hand, stopping for this or that photograph. Around midday, we headed down to The Lazy Lizard for lunch.

As I was waiting to place our order, a small person caught my eye. It was clear that she wished to sit on the high seat next to me at the bar, and so I bent down and swung her up. It was also clear that she was here often, so I suspected that one or both of her parents worked here.

She was fascinated by my old, Southwestern bracelets and Ketchi basket earrings. She giggled when I wiggled my nose like an agouti, the Belizian version of a rabbit. Full of questions, she was a regular little chatterbox, and as you can see, a bit of a ham, too. As I found out, her mother worked in the kitchen, and so apparently …

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