Sunday November 16, 2007
Our adventure began as soon as we set foot on the Belizean soil. Although it has been 3 years since we were last here, there were more familiar faces that expected. The man at the immigration counter looked at my mom’s passport and said, “Oh… when you crossed the Belize-Guatemala to come back onto Belize, I stamped your passport. That’s my signature right there.” Talk about a small world. Getting through customs wasn’t such a pleasant experience.
We didn’t look like your average tourists going to a Caribbean island for the week. We had 13 bags including a duct-taped cardboard box. The customs officials went through every bag and saw the 300 lbs of donated school supplies that we were bringing into the country. Mistake #1: Not getting a letter from the Ministry of Finance before arrival. Even after trying to explain what we’re doing who our contacts were, they still thought we were frauds looking to make an extra buck. Since we weren’t willing to pay a ridiculously high import duty, our donations are sitting in a hopefully locked and secure customs room.
The issue with customs resulted in us missing out flight. Luckily, the company ran an extra flight that day since there
were enough people. Our puddle jumper was a little 12-seater, single prop plane. It was the smallest plane Kathryn or I had ever been in so it was quite exciting. Kathryn had the best seat in the plane sitting right behind the pilot with the ability to see what actually goes on in the cockpit. We missed dinner with Francis, Vern, and the other missionaries from Wyoming, but there was still a yummy meal of local cuisine to be had.
We worked most of Sunday at the school. The school is like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco: there is always something to be painted. From the humid and salty weather conditions, a portion of that school will probably always be in need of a fresh coat of paint. Today we painted the inside of a porch. Painting here is more functional than cosmetic. Considering what type of painting I’m used to doing, it was hard mentally to put a coat of paint on rough wood where every nail is visible.
The school is located on the northern outskirts of San Pedro and is built on top of a garbage dump. The school trucked in loads of sand to have a clean foundation to build on. It doesn’t smell very good, but there are neighbors that live on top of the dump without sand so I can’t complain too much. Their houses are built on stilts because the ground is so soggy and gross. The other side of the school is an inner coastal waterway with mangroves and crocodiles.
That afternoon we attended the first ever baptism performed by the Holy Cross Anglican Church. The bishop flew in to perform about 25 sacraments for both children and adults. The Bishop, the first Belizean-born bishop, spoke English but the ceremony was also translated into Spanish.
After the ceremony, Dad and I went back to the school to finish painting that section. We got a nice visit by some stray dogs and finished just as the rain started. I can now say that I’ve washed my arms with gasoline. When paint thinner and turpentine is too expensive, you wash your brushes in gas and then store them in diesel. My arms still smell like gasoline.
After a quick dip in the pool, it was off to dinner with some of the people from Wyoming. We strolled the newly cobble stoned streets and then it was off to bed.
Our adventure began as soon as we set foot on the Belizean soil. Although it has been 3 years since we were last here, there were more familiar faces that expected. The man at the immigration counter looked at my mom’s passport and said, “Oh… when you crossed the Belize-Guatemala to come back onto Belize, I stamped your passport. That’s my signature right there.” Talk about a small world. Getting through customs wasn’t such a pleasant experience.We didn’t look like your average tourists going to a Caribbean island for the week. We had 13 bags including a duct-taped cardboard box. The customs officials went through every bag and saw the 300 lbs of donated school supplies that we were bringing into the country. Mistake #1: Not getting a letter from the Ministry of Finance before arrival. Even after trying to explain what we’re doing who our contacts were, they still thought we were frauds looking to make an extra buck. Since we weren’t willing to pay a ridiculously high import duty, our donations are sitting in a hopefully locked and secure customs room.
The issue with customs resulted in us missing out flight. Luckily, the company ran an extra flight that day since there
were enough people. Our puddle jumper was a little 12-seater, single prop plane. It was the smallest plane Kathryn or I had ever been in so it was quite exciting. Kathryn had the best seat in the plane sitting right behind the pilot with the ability to see what actually goes on in the cockpit. We missed dinner with Francis, Vern, and the other missionaries from Wyoming, but there was still a yummy meal of local cuisine to be had.We worked most of Sunday at the school. The school is like the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco: there is always something to be painted. From the humid and salty weather conditions, a portion of that school will probably always be in need of a fresh coat of paint. Today we painted the inside of a porch. Painting here is more functional than cosmetic. Considering what type of painting I’m used to doing, it was hard mentally to put a coat of paint on rough wood where every nail is visible.
The school is located on the northern outskirts of San Pedro and is built on top of a garbage dump. The school trucked in loads of sand to have a clean foundation to build on. It doesn’t smell very good, but there are neighbors that live on top of the dump without sand so I can’t complain too much. Their houses are built on stilts because the ground is so soggy and gross. The other side of the school is an inner coastal waterway with mangroves and crocodiles.That afternoon we attended the first ever baptism performed by the Holy Cross Anglican Church. The bishop flew in to perform about 25 sacraments for both children and adults. The Bishop, the first Belizean-born bishop, spoke English but the ceremony was also translated into Spanish.
After the ceremony, Dad and I went back to the school to finish painting that section. We got a nice visit by some stray dogs and finished just as the rain started. I can now say that I’ve washed my arms with gasoline. When paint thinner and turpentine is too expensive, you wash your brushes in gas and then store them in diesel. My arms still smell like gasoline.After a quick dip in the pool, it was off to dinner with some of the people from Wyoming. We strolled the newly cobble stoned streets and then it was off to bed.
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