PCV: Paid Caribbean Vacation

Go to your local Kroger or King Soupers today and check out how much mangos are. I bet they are over $1 each. How much are they here?

FREE

Why? Well, just like money in the United States, they grow on trees. They are everywhere. Sounds delicious right. But there is a catch 22 in every situation.

For some odd reason, Belizeans love salt and pepper. So instead of waiting for the mangos to become ripe, they pick them, peel them, and put salt and pepper on them until they taste good.

The idea of waiting for them to become ripe when they are sweet and delicious seems to fall on deaf ears. Similar to sarcasm and inside jokes.

The catch 22 is something I am waiting to find out. Will there be so many mangos once they are ripe that we must eat them before they go bad? By eating them now when they are green, does it help them so none are wasted?

I don't know the answer to this, but if kids keep coming to school everyday with salt, pepper, and mango in a bag and in a few months when they are ripe I cant find any of them... I'm gonna be pissed.

Think about that next time you go to the grocery and think about buying fresh fruit. Is it really fresh if there are only 3 months of the year where people who live where it grows can eat it?

Someone had the great idea to climb Victoria's Peak. You, like everyone else, may be saying to yourself: What is Victoria's Peak? Well for all you business savvy people out there, here is a bulleted list:

• At 3,675 feet Victoria's Peak is the highest mountain in Belize
• Fewer People have climbed this mountain than Everest
• The hike usually takes 5 days 4 nights with stops at 12k, 19k, 19k, 12k
• The hike is 27k up and 27k down to make 54km
• 54km is roughly 33.5 miles
• We hiked it in 3 days 2 nights only stopping at 19k and 12k
• It was the worst decision I've ever made
• 8 left for the hike, 5 made it to summit
• I made it
• I do not recommend anyone in their right mind to do this
  

This was part of the Jaguar Preserve, but we didn't see any. Look at how happy we looked, we almost enjoyed one another.
Now, for those of you who prefer more of a story... here we go.

We camped the night before at base camp (0 km) and left at 6am. By the pictures, you can tell we look clean and well rested. We didn't know what we were about to get ourselves into. We left full of smiles and the first 12 km were a breeze. Most of the trails were nice and wide with wooden bridges over the streams so we wouldn't get wet. We were chatting it up like it was a Sunday stroll without a care in the world. The 30 lbs on my back was nothing. I may have only brought bagged re fried beans, a loaf of bread, some tortillas and a jar of peanut butter, but I had more than enough. Its only a little hike.

Heather, hating her life first. This is 15k when most of us are already thinking "Why the hell am I doing this?"

We crossed over a river at 12 km and stopped to have a small bite to eat. We were all feeling great and my Keens were holding up just as I thought they would. I brought tennis shoes just in case but didn't plan on needing them. Keens can do anything. Now notice some of the faces in the pictures, we are already starting to hate our lives around 14km and we had no idea that we hadn't even reached the hard parts yet. The first day we were hiking to 19 km to camp. The 2nd day we would summit and then stop at 19k again before hiking out the last 19k on Monday morning. As you can imagine, the plan never works out the way it was planned.


Adam wringing out the sweat from his bandanna while we caught our breath and pounded fluids.

Luckily, it wasn't too hot up there. It was probably around 80 degrees most of the hike. Not to mention we were covered by dense jungle about 90% of the time. This may lead you to believe that we were not sweating. This is not true. I have never sweat more in my life. Most of the hike wasn't fun, but we didn't quite know what torture was yet to begin with. We were just searching for the next pole in the ground to tell us how far we had to go.

Adam trying to be sexy at the waterfall. I just wanted water. More H2O please.

17 km was the worst on the first day. It is almost entirely up hill. I know, I know. Its a mountain, it's all up hill right? Right, but not in the way you are thinking. The difference between this measly 3,675 ft peak and a 14,000 ft peak is 1 thing, the little guy is harder.

You see in the US and most hikes you go on, they have these things called switchbacks that allow you to ascend the mountain but not go straight up. You have to walk farther but its not as strenuous and allows for more people of less skill to complete the hike. Not in Belize. It was straight up and straight down. We got our water from streams along the way and pumped them through a filter to purify it. The only problem was when you reached a stream, it meant that you had to go back up hill again. Which is so much harder than it seems.

Dense Jungle and a small clearing where we finally got to put our eye on the prize
At 18 km, we got our first glimpse of old Victoria herself. It was intimidating how steep it was. The picture does not do her justice. We pulled into 19k and thought we were close to death. There was not much talking anymore and most people ate some food, drank fluids, bathed in the river, set up tents, and went to bed around 7pm to wake up at 4am for the hike to the summit.

Me, making it to 19 km, when I was pulled to the site by the spirit of Rambo.

The 19 km camping ground wasn't exactly what most would consider a camping ground but there was a clearing and a make shift structure with half a roof. Good enough. Our feet were disgusting, I had 1 blister by this point.

Katie's feet, mine didn't look any better. Lt. Dan was right about those socks after all.

It is also important to mention that my Keens did fail me. For those of you who really know me, you can imagine how disappointed I was in myself and in my footwear. I had to switch to shoes halfway up the hill at 17 km. I never put them back on my feet until I reached Yo Creek. They are somewhat broken but far from not being able to wear them.

Me feeling like absolute hell
We left the next morning by headlamp at 5am. I couldn't figure out why, but then after awhile I realized the trick our guide was playing on us. He had hiked Victoria's 25 times and knew how us gringos would react if we knew just how steep the hill we were climbing was. Lucky for us, we could only see as far as our lights would show and just took it one step at a time. One of the hardest things was after the 20 km point the marker signs stopped showing up, but we didn't know that. We thought that the 20th km was the longest one yet and we had been hiking for hours and still hadn't come close to 21 km. Then Marcelo, our Mayan guide, told us we were past 24 km. This was when your mind began to play tricks on you.

Determined. Ready. Stubborn.

I like to think I've done some really stupid things in my day. All the hard workouts from growing up being a wrestler to the 52 1/2 poles in baseball, but nothing ever compared to this. I'm not one to feel sorry for myself on a tough workout, but I was on the verge of tears a few times. On the uphills, my quads would cramp, on the downhills, my hamstrings would cramp. I drank as much water as I could stomach and never peed. That Sunday, I drank 11 liters of water and all and never went to the bathroom until the middle of the night and 2 hydration salts later.

But as many other people know, I'm quite stubborn and when I set out to do something, I'm going to do it. I didn't care if someone was going to have to carry me to the top of that mountain, I was going to make it.

Steep hills and luscious green jungle below

The last few km on the hike are straight up. No need for your walking sticks anymore because they wont help you. It is pretty much hands and knees climbing on rocks that are so wet you could fall at any moment. We were in the jungle after all so it might not have been raining but the moisture was so apparent, all of the trees were dripping all around us.

Just before the summit, coming through the fog

We kept thinking the summit would be just over the next hill because for all that we could see, there was nothing else higher than that. But it seemed to never come. It was only 9am when we reached the summit but it felt like it took forever. Those were the 4 longest hours of my life.

Climbing the rock

Of the 5 (Jacob, Rion, Evi, Fiona, and myself) that left on the 2nd day, we all made it to the top. The 3 (Heather, Adam, and Katie) who stayed back at 19 km to wait for us will never know what they missed out on. But they might be better off for it.

3,675 of the hardest feet you'll ever walk

The summit was a bit of a disappointment. Most of the view was blocked by clouds but there are some things about the top of a mountain that pretty views and majestic skies cant show by taking a picture. The feeling of accomplishment that you get when reaching summit is something you can only understand if you've been there. Due to the clouds, all of the others that didn't leave 19 km think they were the smart ones. That they might be, but I'm glad I made it to the top and felt the rush of being there than giving up and simply using the excuse of "well it was cloudy anyway." The clouds and the views are a side point to the feeling of personal accomplishment by making it there.

Writing in the summit log and the 5 who made it with our trusty guide. European girls are just a stronger breed I guess.
If going up was hard, going back down was humbling. Different parts of my body now hurt that never hurt before because now my body was being used to stop itself from falling down instead of pulling itself up. This is when your feet scream and you grab for a tree to hold your balance only to find that its covered in thorns. Coming down was inspiring because when looking down at some of the hills you had climbed only a few hours ago, you had to wonder just how the hell you did it in the first place.

Instead of camping at 19 km for that night, we decided to go ahead and pack up and move another 7 km onto the next camp site and camp at 12 km. Those 7 km were hell. After hiking to the summit and back, the last thing I wanted to do was put the 30 lbs pack on all over again. But we made that too. Bed time on a mountain is as soon as the sun goes down, if you can keep your eyes open that long. I was asleep that night by 6:30pm. We had hiked from 5am to 5:30pm.

I wish I could say that we all loved each other and made it to the bottom to a grand feast but I think we were all so sick of our own smell and filth that we just wanted to go home and sleep. I was in bed that night by 7:30pm and I didnt even reach home until 6:30. To make things better, I couldnt walk. But we will leave the injuries for another blog post. With other, not so great pictures.

In the end, was it worth it? Probably not. I am very proud that I made it to the top but it's not something I look forward to doing again. That mountain pulled out all I had and it took all I had. It wasn't even about physical endurance because everyone's tank was on empty. It came down to mental toughness and the decision of whether or not you were going to let the grade of the hill decide the grade of strength in you. When I tell Belizeans that I climbed Victoria's Peak, they usually first ask what it is? Then I tell them and they say "Why the hell would you want to do that?" Before I left, I thought I had an answer. Now, upon return, I'm not so sure.

I wasn't going to go to school today, but I thought since I didn't go to the assembly on Monday that I'd go check out what is going on before going home to clean up for the weekend and the PCT visit. I never thought I'd see what I did and am still a little shocked about it myself.

We have uniforms here at school. Most students cant really show too much personality with their bodies other than their hair or shoes. Now that may all be over now.

On Fridays, it is known as "Rags Day" which means that for a small price, kids can wear whatever clothes they want and not the uniform. This usually is a great day because you can tell that people, especially the older kids, put some effort into their appearance.

Today, the principal decided to tell kids that their hair had to be "normal" from now on. Exactly what "normal" is I don't know, but these kids better find out. Otherwise they will be put on display for public embarrassment and shame.

She called out every kid that had gel in their hair, whomever didn't have their hair combed nicely. She told them they needed to gel their hair straight and others to just comb their hair. Some kids she told to get a trim.

This was bad enough. Actually pulling them up in front of the rest of the school for humiliation may have been too far. Most of these kids had gel in their hair, making it very hard for a comb to slide through. That didn't matter. She forced it through. With each stroke of the comb, she took away a small part of their individuality in a culture that doesn't leave room for much in the first place.

The flakes of hardened hair that fell out onto the ground were pieces of those kids excitement on why they come to school. If you cant express yourself in anyway, how will you do it? If a kid is failing all his classes and never gets noticed, but on Friday he can look nice and get members of the opposite sex to look their way, why should we stop them? What happens to the boys that we forbid from doing this? We have some problems, but take away the only way for these kids to express who they are and they will find other ways to be noticed. Then we will have other, bigger discipline problems than we currently do.

Some kids may have need a small trim. Others may have too much gel. But public humiliation is not the way to do this. Instead of worrying about what is going on on top of their heads, we ought to be worrying about what is going on inside their heads. Test scores keep dropping, but the scores getting lower aren't important. However, the amount of hair is.

I've heard the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I like this definition. Our teachers preach to the kids all the time about growing up to be somebody. To make Belize proud and more importantly to make Yo Creek proud. Then the frustration begins when most of them seem to have simple problems like saving money or holding down a job.

If they are supposed to be different and stand out in a crown so they get noticed, how are we reinforcing that? We tell them to be exactly the same. From smiles to books to uniforms to shoes to the food they eat and finally to the way they style their hair. Everything is supposed to be uniform in an effort to make a streamline machine of efficiency. But somewhere that doesn't happen. We tell them to all be the same, and when they turn out to be so similar, we wonder why. Why is it that so many kids have the same problems? It couldn't be how we teach reading. It couldn't be the uniforms. It must be the haircuts.

It's hard enough being a 13 year old kid trying to fit in without being pulled out in front of all your peers to be laughed at. We tell them to be different and then scold them when they are. We tell them to be the same and get confused when they listen. When they don't, they are acting up. This is confusing just for me. I cant imagine being 13 having all this stuff thrown at me that changes every week. The times they are a changin'. Everything goes with it too. From the corn field of the Midwest to the sugar cane fields of Orange Walk, everything is changing. It's about time we allow hairstyles to do the same.

I've got a pair of scissors at my house. Anyone need a haircut? I promise to make you as "normal" as I know how, but no matter how hard I try, I still seem to think the main priority should lay whats under the skull, instead of how people decide to fashion and style whats on top of it.