PG and Pueblo Viejo

The chicken we killed, cleaned, and cooked.
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We had a few free days, so a group of us decided to head down to Punta Gorda (affectionately called PG), where the group was to meet up for the Mayan homestays anyway. After a long, seven hour, complete with twenty minute stop to buy corn bus ride, six of us made it to PG. Four others followed later. Anyway, even though our first night was a Saturday and we all wanted to go out and have a good time, NOTHING was open! PG closes down at night, every night. Instead, we sat on the porch in hammocks talking. The next morning four of us went on a hike to nearby Cerro Hill. Kalyn’s guidebook described it as a mile long walk from downtown and a “strenuous” hike to the top, where you can see PG, the ocean, Guatemala, the Maya Mountains, and Honduras. It actually ended up being a two mile hike to a trail which was hidden behind a water pump station. After finally finding the trail, we climbed (mainly on our hands and knees, with the help of a dead electrical wire) to the top. It was definitely a strenuous climb! Much to our disappointment we didn’t see much, since the vegetation was too high, even though we stood on top of an abandoned shed. We made our way back down (I was sliding on my butt the whole time!) and began the long walk back, in the afternoon sun. Luckily we stopped in a shop to buy some sodas, because I don’t know how we would have made it otherwise! But, it was a nice hike and it was much better than sitting around watching TV all day!

Hiking in a skirt.
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The second morning, of our free days, Kalyn and I rented kayaks to use on Joe Taylor Creek.  The paddle was beautiful, we paddled for about five hundred yards, and then we found ourselves in a mangrove forest! The mangroves created a canopy over the water, shading out the sun, and twisted around for about a two hour long paddle. It was nice and relaxing to be on the water, without anything to do except enjoy ourselves. Later that day, we meet back up with the group to go over things for our Mayan homestay. The next day we spent in class, talking about living in a Mayan village and Mayan culture.

Falls at end of our first hike in Pueblo Viejo.
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The village I went to was Pueblo Viejo. It was the first village established in southern Belize, by Guatemalan Maya fleeing the government. It is about seven miles from the border with Guatemala. I stayed with a host family; a young couple with a two year old daughter. My host father is the principal at the primary school in Pueblo Viejo. My first afternoon, we didn’t do much, I took a nap and my host mother taught me how to make corn tortillas. It is not as easy as you would think to make them perfectly round and the correct size, but I got the hang of it! The next morning I woke up at six to help make flour tortillas. After breakfast and doing the dishes, I asked my host mother about the chickens roaming around and if she kills them. She smiled at me and said we were going to kill one that morning. So I killed my first chicken! I didn’t actually do the killing; I held it up and helped tie it to a pole. Then, she showed me how to de-feather and butcher it. She cut up half the chicken and I cut up the other half, mine wasn’t as pretty, but it tasted the same! We used every part of the chicken, except the head (including the feet!) to make a soup which we ate for lunch and dinner that day. After lunch, we went on a hike up a nearby hill with his Standard 5/6 (middle school) class.

Pueblo Viejo
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Since Jerry had prepared us for very traditional villages, I only brought long skirts to wear. This meant that I had to hike in a skirt, something I probably wouldn’t do by choice! But, by the end of the hike, I felt pretty empowered! All of the girls, except for two, were in either skirts or dresses, and most were wearing only slippers or had bare feet. Most of the boys had long pants and hiking boots on. The hike was pretty strenuous, but it was neat to see the girls doing the same thing the boys were doing in dresses and bare feet! From the top of the hill you could see neighboring villages and Guatemala. When I got back, I helped make corn tortillas again and we ate our chicken soup! The morning of my last day, we went on a hike to a nearby cave. We left at dawn and arrived at the cave about 45 min later. It was one of the best caves I think we have been in thus far. There was a lot of water in the cave, so it was really slippery and muddy (my hiking skirt got covered in mud!). We scaled a couple of walls, until we couldn’t go any further without equipment, and then turned around and slid our way back to the entrance. That afternoon Emily and I got a tour of the school and I took a walk around the village. Nearly everyone I encountered thought I was lost, because why else would I be walking along the road, just to walk along the road?! I woke up at three, my last morning, so my host mother could show me how to make flour tortillas from scratch (before I was only molding and cooking the tortillas), and then hopped on a bus back to PG at five.

Pueblo Viejo
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During my visit I had a lot of conversations with my host father about living in a Mayan village vs. living in the US. It was hard to compare the two, but he was constantly asking me how much things cost and how much money people make. Even though I tried to avoid it, we eventually came to the topic of schooling. He asked me how much I pay each year for school. When I told him I pay around $35,000us, which is $70,000bz, he just stared at me in shock. I know that he will probably never see that amount of money in his lifetime, yet that is what is used every year towards my education. I felt like such an ass! He also didn’t understand how minimum wage could be $10bz ($5us) and people couldn’t survive on that alone. Another conversation we kept getting stuck on was the issue of me not being married. While he understands that most people in the US don’t get married as young as in the villages, he still prodded the fact that I am getting older and don’t have a husband yet. My host mother is only a year older than me and she is already married with a two year old and another on the way. They both agreed that she was old when she got married!

Salam home in Pueblo Viejo
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My experience in Pueblo Viejo was not what I was expecting, but it turned out to be a good learning experience. I was anticipating a very traditional village, with strict gender roles and no trace of the modern world. Those Mayan villages only seem to exist in history books and tourism brochures. Rather, the Mayans of today, at least those I interacted with, are slowly acclimating to the modern world. They want electricity and phones, so they can give there kids a look into the outside world via television and the internet. They enjoy eating snacks and sweets they didn’t have to make, and wearing clothes they bought in a store. Although the modern world is harsh and revolves around values the Mayans have not traditionally embraced, such as the idea of private property and making lots of money, they don’t want to be left behind in the times.