San Ignatio

Last night, the "Taiwanese Belizians of the Holy Oil" zapped the Internet (or so my racist instincts told me), and dad and I went to bed super early and without the satisfaction of having done anything fun online for the evening, like watching Jaws or surfing eBay!

We got up this morning around 530 and started zapping the Internet strength before the others here could get up. After some frustrations with PayPal, I went back to bed around 630, and then dad didn't get me up until 8! We hailed a taxi and went to the Forest Department, where I finally received my permit for plant collections! So hurray for the holiday vacations around here finally coming to a close!

Then, we rushed back to the bus station and waited for a bus to San Ignatio. Dad and I parted ways for a bit while I returned some paperwork to the Forest Department, and I had two different males call me "baby girl". Dad thinks it is because I am wearing shorts, but I protested. Two years ago, I had a "worse" treatment (if you call many different males day after day yelling sexist things at you worse) and I was wearing past my knees dresses. Perhaps it would be better if I dressed like the Belmopan locals: lace shirts with black or neon pink bras shining through and tight pants or leggings, or, the classic big-boobed approach, a too-small spaghetti-strap shirt with another bright colored bra under it and a skirt that hugs the booty. I have yet to decide on my summer clothing options, but I do think I will include at least a few long-ish type skirts in the collection.

We finally got on the bus, and it was so packed that they had to refuse some people. Then, almost to San Ignation, I was pointing out to Dad signs for a particular shop that my adviser is fond of. As fate would have it, less than a mile from the shop we blew a tire. Guess where the driver pulled into? We all waited our fate outside, and one Amish boy and a regular Belizian hitched a ride with a truck. Then, another bus passed by and took on as many of us as possible. Probably less than half. Shortly after that bus pulled out, it started to rain. We went to a nearby village and they changed our tire, and then it really started pouring. So, of course, we pushed up all the windows on the half-full school bus and held our breaths, and our noses. One more passenger hitched a ride with the next bus, which didn't give us any warning, and therefore only the one passenger outside was able to catch it. And then a few more left with another car. Finally, about two hours and many greasy hands later we got to San Ignatio, just as it started to rain again.

It was an on-again, off-again rainy sort of day, but other than that it was nice. We went to the market and quite a few little shops. We managed to secure a few choice items, and a rather nice lunch at a place that served garden salads! And I got a little Internet time at a small, American-run cafe that another field school student and I had discovered on another rainy day in San Ignatio two years before.

As Dad was entering the last store of the day, we spotted our bus. It was going back to Belmopan, so we caught a ride back in yet another storm. All the windows had to be closed again, and this time with a packed bus. The air was mixed with the smells of musty old bus, massive BO, and massive amounts of cologne attempting to cover the BO. As a result, I was a tad light-headed, and rather glad when we could open our window again. Of course, as soon as we opened ours, the guy across from us also opened his and the draft gave me goosebumps. Haha- you can't be too picky around here!

We returned to Belmopan and Dad went to get bananas from the market and I explored. I was called "little girl" by yet another guy, but this one was a tad less obnoxious in his approach. Then, we hailed the same taxi driver that frequently picks us up from Banana Bank, and we got home just when the sky was starting to get dusky.