Back to Living in Paradise

The Special Request

2009-12-02T19:28:00.002-06:00

Tales from the Evil Photographer

We met the evening before the wedding, it was quick meeting, just to find out the ceremony particulars they had decided on with Sally the Caye Caulker wedding coordinator. In the months before the wedding I had been in email communication with Amber regarding her tastes, what the dress looked like, etc. And I love a beautiful dress.

The trend this year has been for the bride to not be seen by the groom prior to the ceremony, which makes it a little tricky regarding light. Most weddings happen in the late afternoon here on Caye Caulker, and since we are so close to the equator, our days and nights are nearly equal all year long, varying only about 1/2 hour in each direction. So a 4 p.m. wedding only gives me about an hour after the ceremony to do portraits. So we decided that I would come to their hotel and photograph "The Putting on of the Dress" which was a three person job.

The men were summarily dismissed as I arrived and it became Ladies Time with the bride finishing her hair and makeup. The dress was the most beautiful wedding dress I had ever photographed, layers of organza pleats and crystals in a champagne color. It had a vintage feel.

Well, Amber is no vintage girl, she is all spunk, and as we were joking around and chatting, all the while I'm snap snap snapping. She said, "Whatever you do I want you to harass my father."

"Oh, O.K. I can do that." I reply

"I really mean it. Harass him. He has given me nothing but grief this week because I am making him wear a suit and tie. So give it to him. Don't let him take off his jacket."

"O.K." and my mind starts to whirl. He looks like he can take a joke, so I start working on the special request.

As a photographer I am requested to do all sorts of things, but mostly it is in crowd control, like getting a drunk uncle off the pier, or pushing the parents up to the front and moving guests back who in their excitement have pressed forward. And I do it.

But I have never been requested to harass the father of the bride. I rose to the occasion in a kind but stern voice, dead serious.

Daddy, stop sweating

Daddy, take off your sunglasses

Daddy get your hands out of your pockets

Daddy, don't even think about about taking your jacket off

Daddy, I better see you smile or I am going to stop the ceremony and make you show me your teeth.

And he complied.

I could have told him...
Daddy it is time for you to jump in the pool and I believe he would have done it.

I feel so powerful.

This is one of the funny outtakes.

I found this nifty slide show maker on La Gringa's Blogicito. Thank you La Gringa.

The Lost People

2009-12-01T12:31:00.004-06:00

He told me about his big big big project. He was going to do this, and he was going to do that, and So-and-so was his friend. He couldn't have chosen a worse friend (sigh). I think to myself... you are going to get screwed or get smart, hopefully, before the money runs out. I have stopped giving advice about living in Belize, except to a few who will listen. I hope that by telling my own tale of foibles, people will read and learn. Read & learn. We always think we are going to be the exception to the rule. The rule is that: the people you first meet in a new place are rarely the people that have your best interest at heart. You will meet the hustlers and opportunists first. They smell you coming. Watch out for "Opportunity Knocking." You might not want to answer the door.

The money always runs out. The solution to the problem is not to pour money on it. The project was built over subterrainean caves, so the building pilings went plink plink plunk to the bottom of the caves.

"I could have told him there were caves back there" was the response that Bigness gave when I heard about the plink plink plunk going on to the back of the island. His next response was... "You can't tell white people nuttin, dey don't want to listen." We talk about the white people... like I am not one of them.

When you fall in love (with Belize or with a person), no one can tell you anything. You start in this forward motion, and nothing, nothing, nothing will stop you.

I see them come with their big plans, and leave sad, mad and broke. Those who leave right after the money finishes are the smart ones. They came, they tried, they knew it all, and then they left. There are those who stay after the money finishes become lost people. If their paperwork isn't in order, then they can't get their visa extended every month, so they become illegal. Then the passport expires, or it is lost, and time passes so that even if they had the money, they can't leave. They just have to blend in. And they do. I know several people who are without passports. They can't leave, they can't even go across the border into Mexico or Guatemala. They just stay and do their thing, and have been here long enough, that people don't ask too many questions. An interesting characteristic about people in Belize is that, they might gossip about you and call you slek behind your back, but they won't turn you into the police unless you are harassing them.

I remember in the not too distant past a bar manager who was picked up and extradited back to the U.S. He had been working illegal in Belize, for years and years. Everybody knew it, nobody cared, but he harassed and fired the wrong girl! She contacted the Belize Labor Board, who checked with Immigration, who ran a check on the guy who found out there was a warrant out for his arrest. The extradition order came and they (the U.S.) just yanked him out of here like that (snap). He harrassed the wrong girl.

In another case, the Canadian girl had left her country under suspicious circumstances, came here a few months, ran out of money, and then lost her passport (or it was stolen) She wasn't hurting anybody, and even though she was the town whore, nobody cared, everybody knew about her status. But lef dem ting lone mein! It is the white people who are nosey and tattle tales. Belziean's don't care as long as you aren't hurting anybody. Finally someone rescued her 7 years later. How you rescue someone, or rescue yourself, is you have to get a new passport. You/they have to give a statement to the police, in another town that doesn't know you, that you just came into the country and that it was stolen along with your other papers. You take the police report to your embassy and tell them it was stolen or lost, and they will issue you one immediately, provided that the passport wasn't expired. Your embassy doesn't care if you are telling the truth or lying. They just don't want trouble with repatriation, so if you can bring a return plane ticket to show them, more is the better. This only works in Banana Republics or backwaters that are not too swift with their computer systems.

In another instance, this old white lady has been around so long, speaks Kriol perfect, you think she was born here. But one day, after she had drank about a bottle of rum, she told me her story. Many years ago she came to Belize with money. She had been in the pharmaceutical business, and came to retire and buy land. She got swindled out of her money and lost it all, had burned her bridges in the U.S., so felt she had nowhere to go. She wanted to kill herself so she came to the San Pedro to drown herself at the reef, and found that she could swim pretty well... so she started over, living in the park, sleeping on benches under the palapa, going through the trash to find food to eat. She found religion, and the church ladies helped her to establish a little part time business enough to feed her and pay the rent, and here she is all these years later. "Wouldn't you like to go back?" I asked her.
"What for?" she answered
She had made her peace with the situation, reconciled it and was living in the moment.

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This was posted on a forum by Rigrat who has Belize Bird Rescue.
An Ode to Belize
All the time we see them come
Some are smart, some are dumb
Some are black, some are white
Chinese, Indian, Israelite
Canadians, South Africans, often Brits
Belize is great, home’s the pits
We tell them come and stay awhile,
Rent a house, Belizean style

Never rush, never jump,
Or you could buy a rubbish dump
“Oh no! Not me” they often cry
“I’ve been around, let them try
I am too clever, worldly-wise
To buy a swamp or collapsed high rise
I know the law, bring them on”
How often do we hear this song?

“I got money, want to spend
Cash to burn, cash to lend”
“Slow down SLOW DOWN we tell them all”
But rarely do they heed our call
To hide your money, don’t be flash
Don’t let them see your petty cash
Take it easy, make no strife
Come and try the easy life

“I know, I know! I have a brain!
Advice you give is all in vain
I’m not stupid, been around,
I’ve seen it all, there’s no new ground
Was in Belize, stayed three days,
Here’s my plans, be amazed
Bought some land, has a creek
Gone home to sell, be back next week”

“Going to build, got so much space
Belize will have to change its pace
I’m getting old, don’t have time
My place will be a real gold mine
I’ll make a fortune wait and see
My plans will work out faultlessly
I’ll start a business make some money
A king in the land of milk and honey”

And so they come despite the warning
Truck piled high and spend all morning
At the border checkpoint getting mad
Thinking that they’re being had
“How can they charge? This stuff’s not new!”
As they watch the customs turn the screw
“My truck is dirty used and old
I DIDN’T BRING THAT MUCH GOLD!”

Credit card reaches max
On environment and sales tax
And their pockets full of hard earned booty
Have emptied fast on import duty
So to the ATM they have to dash
When the Customs guy wipes out their cash
It’s just a setback, not too bad
They’re in Belize so just be glad

So jubilant they wend their way
To the jungle deep where big cats play
Where mozzies bite and scorpions sting
And the bush’s thorns large scratches bring
To the forest damp where mildew grows
To rot your ‘lectrics, shoes and clothes
But they’re not daunted, they are strong
How often have we heard this song?

And oh! What Joy! They find their neighbour
Can build their house, and do hard labour
Can chop their bush, can plant their trees
The smartest man in all Belize
There is nothing that he can’t do
Given cash and tools and wood and glue
A house by Christmas, won’t take long
How often have we heard this song?

But cash aplenty are his needs
To start construction, plant your seeds
A new machete to chop your grass
To build a road so you may pass
He needs material, steel, and screws
Cement and block, no time to lose
Gimme dollah gimme quick
Buy me hammer, saw and brick

He has a cousin, wife and brother’s son
His auntie’s uncle’s sister’s one
His whole family will lend a hand
To build your house and till your land
To cook your meals and wash your clothes
To guard your house whilst you doze
It just takes money, little bit
On little bit and bit and bit

But soon those bills are getting large
The money pit’s not free of charge
The credit card is getting worn
Our new arrivals look forlorn
All the while demands for cash
Are diminishing the money stash
The materials that came were wrong
The nails too short, the steel too long
And wondrous neighbour soon forgot
He told you he could do the lot

Excuses and evasions come
The started work was never done
Sun too hot, it rain too hard
Me granny dead, they burn ma yard
Foot painin me, Ma house collapse
Car done bruk, Licence lapse,
Pickni sick, he very ill
Gimme money to buy a pill
Police ketch me, I done no wrong
How often do we hear this song?

And soon they meet officialdom
To Belmopan they must come
To show their passport, licence, form
To stay in a land of sun and warm
You residency they want to thwart
Your retirement plans may come to naught
Immigration take too long
They’ve lost your file, your paper’s gone
Pay more cash to extend your stay
Wait one month or two they say

The mall’s not built, the shops are bare
Of modern goods ‘cept Chinese fare
No bowling alley, cinema
Was it wise to come this far?
The roads are bumpy have big holes
My pickup truck is looking old
There’s no Big Macs or KFC
Italian restaurant ceased to be
The power’s hardly ever on
How often have we heard this song?

The rains did come, the land did flood
The building site has turned to mud
The lush mangrove that I cut down
Has caused my coconuts to drown
And even though I had a plan
My huge Condo they want to ban
It’s not my fault, Third World you see
I am foreign, they pick on me

My neighbour’s gone, my cash he took
His auntie’s wife could never cook
My tools, my blocks, my roofing tin
Have vanished into air so thin
Cement got wet, the sand was dirt
My funds are gone I lost my shirt
The gas was bad my truck has seized
I won’t accept I’ve been Belized
My health has failed not feeling well
My worldly goods I have to sell
Going back home, where things are normal
Where rules are rules and life is formal

And all because he didn’t listen
To those well versed in his position
He burned his bridges, came too fast
And we all knew he’d never last
We told him loud we told him blunt
NEVER pay your cash up front
NEVER think you know it all
NEVER think our tale’s too tall
And all advice that he forsook
To never jump before you look
Has sent him packing, pockets empty
Back again to lands of plenty

Be even though we are so smug
We know Belize is like a drug
That if you come and stay awhile
You’ll be swept in Belizean style
A pirate’s land, with pirate’s luck
We need their cash, their loot, their buck
Where many fail, just some succeed
To fill that urge, that inner need
To live a life, exotic, free
Of jungle trail and sun and sea

So who can blame them, those who come
To try their luck with what we’ve done
But sure as dawn on misty mornings
The ones that fail, ignored the warnings
That things are done here differently
To the things back home you wish to flee
So bide your time, be at ease
Time means little in Belize
Its not that we don’t know its wrong
But we do get tired of this old song.

Rigrat
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On my last trip to visit family, with the economy in the crapper in Belize as it is in the U.S. I posed this question to my oldest daughter Adria... "What if Mommy has to get a real job?"
She thought for a moment, and answered with aplomb "Well, I wouldn't worry about it, you'll just lie yourself into one just like always."

And I instantly felt more confident.

La Esperanza (the hope)

2009-11-09T20:31:00.024-06:00

The hurricane had sucked out all the breeze, which meant it was perfect for me to photograph my little purses on Tia Ilna’s seaside bench. Bigness, being the baby of the family, Ilna is an older sister, along with Ophelia, Ester and Isabel. It is my favorite place to photograph, but you have to time it just right, the sun canting to the west, a slice of sunlight between the palm branches and the beautiful afternoon golden light streams through. I can feel the light when it is right, and it only lasts about a ½ hour. I have to move fast to get all the shots in today because I am leaving Caye Caulker to go back to Chetumal Mexico. My wedding photography jobs are done and I am headed back to what feels like home now.

I dump the purses out onto the bench, here sits three weeks of work Three whole weeks. I wonder to myself, how much they will sell for at Pretty Ethnic and Belizean Arts in San Pedro. I can only make about 2 a day, and there is no way I can charge for my time. I am competing with mass produced, imported bags from Bali, China and Guatemala. I hope that people can see that they are one-of-a-kind hand beaded on hand painted silk. Truly original, wearable art. I hope, they read the tag which tells them that they can hand wash them, that they are fair trade products. I hope a fancy designer from New York buys some and decides to use them as inspiration for their next collection, and credits me. I also hope that my mother remembers that I am her only daughter.

The funny thing about growing old, is that nothing really changes, we just become more of who we are, softer or stiffer. I hope that Age will soften me.

In February, when my mother visited I found out a couple of new things about her. I found out that when she was a teenager she wanted to play the base violin, not with the bow, but to pluck it and play in a jazz band. He mother made her play the piano, she hated it and wasted the lessons. As a girl, I studied classical piano, or rather tolerated it. I loved the piano, but quit the lessons at age 16 because I just wanted to play like Elton John circa 1976. I can still read a little music, and play every so often, not often enough to keep unrusty though.

I found out that my mother had had a pregnancy before my oldest brother who was born 2 years after my parents married at the ages of 16 and 18.

I found out that the older I get the more like my father I become. Introverted, cerebral, needing a lot of time, brain space, can’t be rushed, quiet. I read the i

nstruction booklet before I start. My mother, who should be my biggest fan, isn’t. And it has always puzzled me. I am not a drug addict, or bank robber, or prostitute. I am just a girl following her dream, wherever it takes

her. My mother doesn’t approve of me. I don’t fit tightly into the box my she wants me in. I’ve tried it, it doesn’t fit me.

It was the quietness of this year, the year I quit my life in Belize, that I had enough head space to create new things. And many new things were created. So, now that I am talking about it again, I will share these new things with you, a little bit at a time.

Favorite Photo - Go Slow (the dog)

2009-11-09T12:09:00.001-06:00

Heather & John, November 7, 2009

2009-11-09T09:21:00.023-06:00

Here is a sampler from that dayLivingroom of Caye Reef

Getting ready, one of the bedrooms at Caye Reef.

The ceremony was on the beach, in a most unlikely place, to the right of Sobre las Olas and across, the street from Herbal Tribe, behind the street vendors.

This makes me dizzy to even look at. But it was shot on the rooftop of the new Caye Reef, under the Lanai. The sunny sky was to the west, while the storm was to the east.... (below). You can sorta see one of the feeder bands behind the hammock.

No, folks, this is not a painted background, this is the real deal.
Chilin on the lounge chairs at Caye Reef
Awe shucks folks, I AM a sentimentalist
Costa Maya Beach Cabanas and Tsunami Adventures dock.

Shot on the beach right in front of Costa Maya Beach Cabanas & Tsunami Adventures

Heather's lucky blue beads. I love the texture on his shirt.

I also love weathered wood.

Greetings from the Peanut Gallery.

More GuRlz!

All Eyes on Ida

2009-11-09T08:45:00.006-06:00

While all eyes were on Ida churning up the coast of Belize, seemingly just beyond the reef, I was watching...

Gurlz with ATTITUDE and Bride on Bike! I love the purses and high heel sandles, and it was a hoot to watch them teetering on the sand. Practicing in advance (about 10 years in advance) for the Miss Lobsterfest Pageant.

I came back to Caye Caulker on the 4th, to shoot a wedding on the 5th, during the system that preceeded Ida, finished that one and faced down Ida on the 7th. Sally, Caye Caulker's wedding coordinator always has her contingency plan, she's on top of the weather situation. Sometimes I think she has a crystal ball. Now, me, I'm a sweaty hyperventillating mess, just prior to shooting, even on a good day. It is not that I don't like shooting weddings. I love it. It is probably one of the most fulfilling jobs I have ever had. It is the nervous tension I self generate, and I can't seem to stop it. maybe I should stop trying to.

"Babes, I don't even know where the plywood is." Bigness tells me that morning. This always catches us like this, late in the season, we think trouble has passed, and then boom, we are right there in it.

"The water is cool cool cool, too cool for a hurricaine." I keep telling myself. And it was cool, both on the 5th and the 7th, the air temperature dipped down into the 70s.

My couple was from the coast of North Carolina, where they understand "WEATHER." And in talking with them the day before the ceremony, the groom was actually grooving on the weather and said "Wouldn't if be great if we could get some lightening in the background of some of the photos.?"

I said, "Well that would be cool, but you wil be standing out there by yourself, because when I see lightening, I run for cover." I remember well the lightening storm that raked across the beach a few years ago and electrocuted a man. All in all, when the time came, the day was perfect, with the storm to the east and sunny sky to the west, cool temperatures. What more could I ask for? It seemed like we all got what we wanted that day.

Bigger is not Always Better

2009-07-14T20:10:00.011-06:00

Sometimes bigger is just bigger.

In Mexico, while it has everything a person could want to buy, eat or do. The people are not friendly in our area. In 9 months I have met 3 people. Yes, you read it right… 3 people. My BELIZEAN Spanish teacher, a BELIZEAN massage therapist and one neighbor who is originally from the city of Merida, a very friendly place. That’s it.

At first I attributed it to the fact that in the beginning I didn’t get out much, I was very focused on setting up my studio and painting. I have to remind myself, I always get what I want. On Caye Caulker I suffered from Noseyneighboritis, people always up into my business. People love to talk here, and there is a fine line between gossip and information, and I have to admit, I participated in the listening and the saying. But what it comes down to is I really need a very quiet controlled environment to do my best work. I can’t be talking, answering the phone or having interruptions. I am the most like my father in that attribute. I need mental space.

When we moved to Mexico it was to a middle class neighborhood of modest homes with two working parents and live-in Guatemalan maids. I felt the open mouth stares from behind closed drapes as we would exit the 10 foot high security/privacy fence to drive somewhere in the car.

“There goes the neighborhood” I imagined them saying to themselves. A white lady and a giant BELIZEAN! What is the world coming to?

My best friend became the pug dog living next door who would only growl at me if I spoke English, but he would try and talk to me if I spoke Spanish. He told me that he was lonely and could he please have a piece of chicken?

I found myself shopping at Chedraui, looking for white ladies to crash my cart into, just for conversation. That's really weird, and I know it, you don't have to tell me.

So, I really got what I wanted. I wanted peace and quiet, and no interfering neighbors, no one calling me bothering me, taking up my time, trying to get me involved in their constant small town drama. I wanted to lower my cost of living, and live in a safe neighborhood (remember my best friend the machette). But life is not perfect. And you don’t know what you got ‘til its gone.

I’m back on Caye Caulker for a few days taking a break from Mexico and to do inventory at the stores selling my artwork and prints. I’m here to TALK. AND TALK AND TALK, as I sit on the street side verandah and people call out to me walking past, in their bikes and golf carts cruising…

"Eeeey! Miss Lee Ann, when you come back?"

"Miss Lee Ann, where you been?"

"Miss Lee Miss Lee Miss Lee, how come I neva de see you again?"

"Miss Lee Ann how you like Mexico?"

"Miss Lee Miss Lee, bring me some ah dat cheap food from Mexico!"

"Miss Lee, I gonna come see you in Mexico!"

"Miss Lee Ann how yu like Mak Donals?"

“I like Burger King better” I reply

“OFF OFF OFF” the little kids chanted on the street as the electricity flickered on for a moment and then browned out again.

Caye Caulker in the dark with no boom boxes or lights, people sounds only, no machines. Its nice. I’m fine, I can operate on batteries for quite a while. There is a breeze blowing, no need for a fan.

“Shutup gial!” I hear a tired mother trying to run a restaurant without current hushes her daughter who is happy and excited about another power outage. "This current jussa harass mi!" To kids its fun, but to businesses its a killer.

“Gial, current gaaan agayn” Bigness booms from the bedroom where he was watching Belize TV news discussing the Maya alliance and their conflict with central government over land rights, titles and leases. This problem is not unique only to Belize, it is this way all over the world, indigenous people treated like immigrants and immigrants treated like royalty.

Current back on for a few minutes, I’m ready to plug again and down down down the lights go. I stay unplugged during these episodes until I’m sure its safe. I don’t like the effect that the power surge has on my things and we all know that the electricity company never wants to take responsibility for damage from power outages, brownouts and spikes.

“Gial, the TV cure itself” Bigness announces from the bedroom. As the power goes back on.

One good thing that came from this power outage is, the sound on the TV in the master bedroom magically started working again. For 3 days Bigness has been lip reading the news and watching 12 Corezones, and doing, of all things… reading. I told him the "sound out" was practice for when he goes deaf, and then instantly felt guilty for saying it. It got a chuckle out of him, he LOVES my insults. I know, that's weird too, you don't have to tell me. If my 74-year-old mother heard me say that to my husband, she would wash my mouth out with Fels Naptha soap.

Now that the current is back on the only thing standing between Bigness and Caso Cerrado is that the cable TV company isn’t back online yet.

I feel like telling Bigness to hit it with a hammer to see if he can make it work. That’s my father’s personality in me and something I heard him say over and over facetiously as I was growing up with a self-taught mechanical genius. But I stifle it.

We go like this in fits and streaks. Current will be good good good for months, and then blip blap blam, its off. We are not experiencing the blackouts that San Pedro and villages on the mainland are, due to the fact that our juice comes from 3 giant diesel engines on the back side of the island. We are not hooked up to the national grid, and I don’t know if we really want to be either. Given that the majority of Belize’s electricity comes from a national grid that is supplied by Mexico, and Mexican hydroelectric power is at a low due to less rain this year. The Mexican newspaper announced that there will be power outages as they are not able to keep up with demand. I’m o.k. with the 3 diesel engines on the back side of the island and marvel sometimes at how very reliable our current is.

If I have to be anywhere in the world when the electricity goes off, it would be Caye Caulker with its people noise and the sound of palm trees in the breeze.

So, during my self imposed exile I created many many many little things. With this economic climate people don’t want to spend much money, so if any sales are made, they are the smaller pieces. I have new jewelry and small paintings. I’m now creating a silk self matt for these 10” x 10” silk paintings. They are available online (soon to be offered on my website) and at River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan, in Belize at Pretty Ethnic in San Pedro, Caesar’s Place in San Ignacio, Fine Arts in Belize City, Los Cocos Cantina on Caye Caulker, and Art-n-Soul in Placencia. The price for a framed painting at River’s Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan is $97.00. I am offering them unframed in Belize for $47.50 U.S. and for an internet sale add $30 U.S. for shipping.

Living La Vida Boca

2009-07-08T10:26:00.004-06:00

Prior to moving to Chetumal Mexico I searched the internet for a Spanish school in Chetumal, to no avail. An acquaintance found me a private tutor, a Belizean man studying at the university and living in Chetumal. So at least once I week I get my Spanish class, which is tailored to what I need to survive here. I couldn’t imagine sitting through a public Spanish class and asking the teacher… “Como se dice ‘Do you have hormone cream for menopause’ in Espanole?”

How do you say “I am 48 and learning a new language.” In Spanish?

My first meeting with the Spanish Teacher established that I knew quite a few words, which made me proud. My pronunciation and grammar were, let’s say, not as good as the 3 year old who lives in the house behind us. I am unlearning all the bad Spanish grammar and pronunciation taught to me by Bigness so that people won’t laugh (and call me an idiot to my face) or get that puzzled look on their face which tells me “we think she is saying Spanish words, but what are they?” Bigness thinks my Spanish is already good enough, all he has to do now is to teach me the curse words.

My one saving grace is that I don’t care how stupid I sound. No, really, I don’t. And when I get real frustrated I revert to English, which has a startling effect on sales personnel (especially when I use the phase “No speaky Spanish” and turn my palms up). A couple of times the have answered me in English. And I wonder why they couldn’t have put me out of my misery a little sooner.

I came here with some misconceptions. I assumed I would start out asking questions in my mush mouth Spanish and invariably I would get an answer in English. I assumed that if the clerk didn’t understand me, he or she would find someone to interpret. I think every foreign country should be this nice when dealing with egotistical English speakers. NOT SO. Big new to me: in Mexico they speak SPANISH and in Chetumal, Mexico which borders an English speaking country, they have just started teaching English in High School THIS YEAR. Nobody is busting out in English here to rescue me when I refer to MYSELF as ustedes. For the non-Spanish speaker, a rough translation is that, I have a bad habit of referring to myself as YOU in the plural form. I just blunder through with my 100 phrases adapted and borrowed from. I just describe the thing if I don’t know the word for it, the colors, the size, and eventually someone understands my kitchen Spanish. I've stopped caring how ridiculous I sound when I point to the door and call it a window, because maybe someday “me talk pretty”. Yes, I actually pointed to the door at Sam’s Club and said “Abierto la ventana, por favor” and they opened the door, even though I had just called it a window. See... I’m making progress.

So now Bigness and I play a game when we are out shopping. I do all the talking – in SPANISH. And I only talk to him in ENGLISH and I act as a mentally challenegged interpreter for him. He lets me know how close I am to understanding what they are really saying. I get more respect that way, no one clicking their teeth at me. I would like to think it is because my Spanish is improving, but down deep I know it is because my ham fisted 6 foot 4 inch husband is so scary looking. I make excuses for myself trying to joke in Spanish and explain to the unsuspecting taxi driver or store clerk that my school for spanish is the telenovella (Spanish soap opera), it sometimes gets a chuckle, but most of the time I get a worried look.

Spanish Vocabulary

2009-05-17T09:21:00.002-06:00

I know that SHUT UP is not a Spanish phrase so I say it quietly in English out of the corner of my mouth at the Mexican woman next to me at the internet cafe who is talking VERY LOUDLY on her cell phone. So loud I can hardly think, and then I tear off a peice of paper, wad it up and stick it in my ear on that side to try and block the conversation from which I understand 1 in 8 words, the rest sound like SLDKFJD CKLSDLKS SKDKFEOWK mi amore.
We are the only two here, so I don´t understand why she chose to sit right next to me where there are a dozen other computers. Must like my perfume or maybe I´m a people magnet again.

I look over to the attendant to give him the "please shut her up" look with my eyes, but he is busy chatting in messenger and managing his music downloads.

The Spanish teacher says that I should say:
"Senora, silencio, por favor" which translates to "Mrs. Lady, quiet please." but that would lead to other Spanish words which would lead to me having to say "Sorry, no speaky Spanish," ...again.

I would so the shush! sound but it would be mistaken for the hiss sound and that can only mean trouble for me, so for today I am just balling up a peice of paper and shoving it in my ear on that side.

Swine Flu Update 2

2009-05-04T10:33:00.005-06:00

I´m typing from a Spanish keyboard, so if it my typing looks funny to you, imagine how it looks to me. My fingers don´t know quite what to do.

It seems that the crisis here is nearly over. Any suspected cases in Chetumal were mild, the patients treated and sent home the same day. The schools are still closed but will reopen soon. I am still not putting my fingers in my mouth or nose or eyes, so I feel pretty safe. Bigness is practicing covering his mouth when he sneezes, however, once the crisis is over, I imagine he will go back to being a directional spray nozzle again.

They closed the Corozal Free Zone in Belize and are guarding it with BDF soldiers since they estimate that 4000 people work and shop there daily. There have beenno reported cases of the flu in Belize as of today. Doctors on both sides of the Mexico/Belize border are standing by to assist any suspected cases trying to cross the border.

Store clerks are still wearing the blue masks though, which I kinda like since I can´t really see them snarling at me when they wear them properly covering the nose and mouth. I can hear, however the growls and gnashing teeth.

Swine Flu Update

2009-04-29T10:40:00.002-06:00

The swine flu may have reached Chetumal, Mexico with 5 suspected cases in the hospital. They have closed the schools and have advised people to stay home for a while. I´m seeing about 1 in 10 people wearing the surgical masks. For myself I´m not high risk since I hardly ever leave the house anyway and I promised myself when I moved to Mexico to not stick my fingers in my mouth. I am most concerned with Belize closing its border with Mexico, that would really mess things up.
So I´m making preparations for a long quarantine, stocking up on food and medicine and hunkering down. My gut feeling is that as usual the media overblows everything and that its not as bad a they make it seem, but on the other hand...

Practice Makes Perfect

2009-02-06T10:52:00.003-06:00

My Mom is coming for a short visit to escape from the frozen North.

So, Bigness and I are practicing:
Closing the bathroom door
Not talking with our mouths full of food
Eating with silverware

Things that he still need to work on:
Bathroom sounds and running commentary describing things even with the door closed, the prolific use of the word FOK and wearing shoes.

Things that I still need to work on:
Brushing my hair, the use of room spray and not walking around in my underwear

We wouldn´t want her to think we are animals of course, but when you´re not out there trying to impress someone, its amazing how you let things go.

Sometimes Impatience is a Virtue

2009-01-11T04:25:00.002-06:00

The first house in Chetumal didn’t work out so well. It’s a learning curve we are on. The arrangements were made, deposits were paid, lots of conversations in Spanish between Bigness and the house owner. Si!Si!Si! And 3 weeks later when we arrived, nothing had been done. NOTHING. No water or electricity turned on, no yard cleaned, broken windows, dead cockroaches everywhere. I think I heard WTF uttered about 10,000 times that day. I decided I could deal with this, since My Little Monster (Bigness) was about to blow his top. So he left to go live in the middle of the party (back to Caye Caulker) until things straightened themselves out. We did actually have water though, it was in the form of a 100 gallon cistern on the top of the house, which meant that I could at least flush the toilet and take a quick shower.

So basically, for the next 3 days I became a mall rat, biding my time, waiting for the electrician to come and check the wiring in the house so that the electricity could be turned on and the meter installed. I was the consummate browser, sashaying through the aisles in CHEDRAUI. Hours were spent comparison shopping for sandwich rolls. In the larger stores they pretty much leave you alone, and actually I’ve found that the clerks kinda run or scoot around the corner when they see me coming. I guess they feel like my Spanish assaults them. But I am digressing.

I was staying in the house rather than at a hotel, and just dealing with the camper’s dilemma of what to do after dark and no electricity. I guess that’s what they invented movie theatres for. The electrician did show up 2 days later, and what an entrance he made. I had cleaned the house and had started purchasing furniture. All of this was exhausting especially since I couldn’t watch Oprah on TV while doing it. So I had just taken a shower and lay down on the newly delivered bed nekkid. This electrician must have a 2nd job as a cat burglar. I never heard him coming. Needless to say, my life is so predictable. I was walked in on, and to my surprise he didn’t seem to notice that I was sans attire. Maybe this is something he’s used to, walking on big fat white ladies reclined and probably snoring. Anyhow, I’m sure I blushed as I grabbed for the sheet and scurried into the bathroom to dress, although I don’t know why I bothered. The clothing was for me, not for him, something to do with my self esteem I guess. He just went about his business checking outlets, and light sockets, because he had run a line directly from the pole into the house (down the metal fence – didn’t look so safe to me), let there be light. Now all we need is water to flush the toilet, glass for some windows, etc. etc. Bigness came back the next day in time for the 100 gallon cistern to deplete and to the announcement that “The electrician saw my tits and I think my ass too.”. WTF was uttered about another 10,000 times and I thought he was going to throw himself down on the ground and have a screaming fit. All of the cooing and petting in world wasn’t going to make My Little Monster settle down.

So that was when impatience became a virtue. Across the street and over 2 houses was a sign “House for Rent” I hadn’t noticed it before. We went over and peeped through the street side access window (complete with burglar bars and chicken wire) into the inner courtyard. There was no though of going closer because a 10’ high fence (with spikes on top) and a metal privacy gate kept you out. So he called the phone number and the lady came right over. We moved in the same day.

I would have stuck it out at the other house, but I’m so glad now that Impatience is a Virtue with My Little Monster. The new house is still in our budget, but its so much nicer with air conditioning in the bedroom, cable TV, ceiling fans in all the rooms, ceramic tile, water heater, intercom from the kitchen to the front gate, and a covered verandah in the back where I have my studio.

I feel content.

Little Bo Leep

2008-12-20T22:01:00.002-06:00

Little Bo Leep
has lost her links
and doesn't know where to find them

Leave them alone
and NO ONE will come home
waggin their tails behind them

When I changed my template, I didn't read the fine print (a character flaw of mine) and poof they were gone. Ctrl-Z Ctrl-Z Ctrl-Z Undo Undo Undo I typed, but no one in cyberspace heard me. Crying and screaming didn't help, but it sure quieted the neighborhood down.

Please email me at caribbeancolors1 at yahoo.com because I'm too lazy to read through the 1400 pages of comments and click on the comments links.

Getting Ready to Bust a Move

2008-11-15T20:28:00.004-06:00

I’m really bad a finishing a story, and answering the door. If you knock long enough, I’ll eventually answer the door, or the phone, so thank you to those friends who have emailed me asking what is going on.

I've been playing my cards pretty close to my chest as we were making major decisions and turning this way and that trying to figure our way out of this maze.

I feel like Rumpelstiltskin, having woken up from a 20 year sleep with the price of everything doubled. I thought I was going to go into shock walking down the aisle at Brodies where they hadn’t even bother to peel off the old price sticker before sticking down the new ones which were 50% higher across the board. In general, imported foods from the U.S. cost double, but we still indulge ourselves in a few luxury items. Most of what we buy is grown locally, rice beans, chicken, vegetables, fruit. It had been months since I had actually been grocery shopping. Bigness usually does the shopping in Belize City weekly, because prices in general are too high on Caye Caulker. If tomatoes are 1 bzd a lb (50 cents U.S.) at the central market in Belize City, then they are 4 bzd a lb. ($2 U.S.) on Caye Caulker.

He had been complaining of price hikes, but then again he complains about the price of everything. His favorite reminiscence is about Target in the 1990s where he could get a polo shirt for $4.

“Babes, next time you’re in de steytes, get some more of deez shuts fa me. I oonly peey foor dalla fa dis one” and he stretches the threadbare polo shirt over his belly.

“What century was that?” I answer.

I hate that friggin shirt, I think to myself and make a mental note to turn it into cleaning rags when he’s not looking. You know, the burgundy one with a stripe across his chichis and the moth eaten hole conveniently located at his belly button (ventilation).

With food prices up 50% on most of our essentials like rice, beans, and butane gas for cooking. Plus now with the great floods of 2008 detroying large portions of the rice, corn and sugar cane, Belize will have to import all these staples. Tourism reported to be down 25% for the last 2 quarters. Reported, that is by the tourist board, as an average for the country. But I know that for Caye Caulker we were way lower than the 25% drop that our tourist board reported. High season started late in 2007 and Easter came early in 2008. As an example, last year, even with hurricane Dean at the end of August, I still made my break even. This year, for the month of August I was down 75% from last year.

I DO DECLARE
Even with downsizing, I now know I am not recession proof.

I made the tough decision to close my store after having a continuous presence on Caye Caulker for 7 years. I’ve decided to take a year off, close down and wait out the U.S. recession which has directly affected tourism in Belize. I am still going to have my paintings, prints and sarongs available throughout Belize at these fine stores:
Belizean Arts in San Pedro - prints, original art, cards and jewelry
Pretty Ethnic in San Pedro - original silk paintings, prints, silk sarongs and jewelry
Fine Arts in Belize City located near Wet Willy's outside of the Tourist Village has original silk paintings and prints
Caesar’s Place in San Ignacio on the Western Highway near Gerogeville has prints and cards
Art-N-Soul in Placencia on the sidewalk has original art, prints and jewelry
Los Cocos Cantina - in my old location next to the police station on Caye Caulker has prints and a few originals
De java House on Caye Caulker located next to Atlantic Bank has prints and jewelry

In the U.S. you can get my original art at River's Edge Gallery in Wyandotte and in New York City Chelsea District at the Agora Gallery.

In the interim I am only selling wholesale, to art galleries and on the internet and with 7 outlets carrying my art and merchandise, I'm pretty busy creating enough stock and painting almost full time now, when I'm not playing Spider Solitaire on my laptop.

Bigness and I are going to slide 6km over the border to Chetumal Mexico to lower our cost of living to less than ½ of what we’re living on now.

We have emptied out the Little House in the Bush, and put someone there to take care of the property since it has become too dangerous for me to stay there alone. We can not sell the property because we were SWINDLED by the former PUP Belize government (that is a WHOLE other story)... and a class action lawsuit. As we have recenlty found out that the DFC (Development Finance Corporation) has been lying to us for several years.

"Yah, we're going to get you your title, its in proces, the lawyers have it, everything is fine, just keep giving us your money, its going to go through before the election, no, we have to wait until after the election, we're reorganizing after the election blah blah blah." the lies go on and on and on with the DFC. So many rumours and nobody knows what's going on.

The former PUP government who dreamed up this project called Mahogany Heights on Mile 31, did not have clear title to the property before they sold us ours (and to 300 other families), and they knew it, and still did it. Someone needs to go to jail for this. Might I suggest someone with the initials of SM, RF and GG, all former leaders of the People's United Party?

We’ve decided to go to Chetumal to wait out the sale of Bigness’ prime beachfront commercial property on Caye Caulker. We are in no hurry to sell and will be waiting for the right buyer. WHO will the right buyer be? The one who has the money.

Plans for the future? We are not giving up on Belize, but are taking a break. Once the property on Caye Caulker sells. We plan on staying in Belize, but splitting our time between it and the U.S. In the meantime I am setting up my studio in Chetumal and will only be here in Belize when I have to do business, or if friends are visiting, or when we have a check-in to the beach house.

I bet you wish he was your boyfriend too!

2008-11-03T17:23:00.005-06:00

Bigness has tired of the power outages, the water outages and has pretty much dumped me in the bush to finish my projects while he goes to Caye Caulker to live in the middle of a party.

Peanut, the closest neighbor across the way, has been admonishing me for my non-Belizean faux pas while helping clean and cook at the little house in the bush. When I’m involved in a big painting production, I barely take time to even bathe. I don’t actually need help at home, but its nice sometimes to get some help and to hear a human voice.

“Miss Lee Ann noh hang yu laundry close to da chaya tree. It make you itchy itchy.” Peanut moves the laundry from where I pinned it out, to a different spot on the line.

“Miss Lee Ann mek Mr. Bigness chop down dis chaya tree, it too close to yu batroom window and pipple can peep on you. Mek I call Carmel Corn (her boyfriend) ova to do dis ting.”

“Miss Lee Ann mek I kill de spring chicken inna for you batroom” and she points to the little tiny frog clinging to the wall of the shower.
“Why?”
“Dey is pieyzon”
“Poison?
“Noh mek he piss pon you. Pass me the fish spray”

(Fish spray is a super toxic insecticide made in Trinidad)

“Miss Lee Ann, dis how you have your machete?” Peanut points with her lips at the machete laying on the floor next my bed that I named “Boyfriend”.
“Sure,” I say puzzled, not knowing where this is going
“Ayee yi yi gial! Yu not fraid fu cut up fa yu foot?
“Ahhhh” I had never thought of it that way. You know you’re in for trouble when you name your machete “Boyfriend” That's a rule in life, also here's another one: don't ever date a man who is named after a disease.

“Mek I show you how to do it.” she takes the sharp edged 30” blade and slips it between the mattress and foundation, then lays down on the bed to show me where her hand easily dangles near the handle.
“See how easy easy easy?”
“Ooooo. Kaaaaay.” I answer wondering how I made it this long without killing myself.

I went to bed that night with the satisfaction that my sheets wouldn’t itch me, the poison frog wouldn’t piss on me and I wouldn’t step on the machete.

After the break-in last year in December, Bigness installed additional outside lighting, motion sensors and some simple battery operated door alarms you can get at Radio Shack. I used these alarms years ago during my three daughters’ teen years to keep them in the house and to keep boys out. They work with a little key and can be set for instant alarm or give you 15 seconds to disarm after entering. They emit the most annoying blood curdling scream that could drive you to murder. At night I set them to instant. It had gotten to be a routine, and I started to feel like I was being security paranoid. I would let them go off every once in a while for a few seconds just to remind everyone within hearing distance that we here were PROTECTED and READY FOR INTRUDERS.

A couple of things I’ve learned since living in Belize are: hide your purse in a closet and away from even closed windows with burglar bars, keep your cell phone charged, and keep credit in your phone. Run out of phone credit in the middle of the night and there ain’t no 7-11 on the corner open all night.

Minutes after 4 a.m. I was woken up by the hair-raising shrill screaming of our door alarm system. Disoriented with the alarms screaming at me I thought the intruders were already in the house.

I hauled out the machete now conveniently located near my dangling hand, slammed shut and locked the bedroom door and called Peanut. She and Carmel Corn were closer to the house than the police. (more reliable too)

“What happen Miss Lee Ann?” a sleepy Peanut answers the phone
“Look at the house, Peanut” is anyone out there?”
“Nooooooooh, Miss Lee Ann……… oh FAAAAAAAK, Carmel Corn, git up!” a man was crouched beneath her window.

Carmel Corn sprang into action like the little incredible hulk that he is and chased a young man around 18 years old, thin and dark skinned wearing a white shirt and khaki pants back into the bush behind their house where he lost him. He melted away into the darkness.

Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep that night and in the morning found a piece of rebar bent to the shape of a square C that the would-be burglar used to push through the burglar bar screen door to try and pop open the steel door.

The next night went by uneventful, however nervous I was, I finally drifted off into a fitful sleep only to find that in the morning the screen on the front door had been peeled back in another attempt.

What about the police? I called to inform them of what had happened, but no one came, it was after the fact. They suggested I get a gun.

Bigness assured me that it was ONLY sprungheads trying to phish the room, for whatever they could pick with a stick and sell for 5 to buy a rock. He reassured me that the only way into the house was with a car, a chain and a bumper.

I think that’s pretty facey that the house would be under attack when I’m there. Its obvious, the car is in front, the lights are on. These bad boys are getting BOLD.

In MYSPACE they have a mood section, I am unnerved.

Art credits:

Hand-painted silk

Bamboo & Banana Leaf 20" x 28" $250

Lillies in the Window 20" x 28" $300

Sweet Plumeria 20" x 28" $250

Conspiracy Theory

2008-11-02T08:45:00.006-06:00

The Little House in the Bush
If something drastic electricity-wise (read: exploding transformers or downed lines) happens on Caye Caulker, after dark, we know that we have to wait until daybreak for a technician to come over by boat from San Pedro. On the mainland of Belize where the Little House in the Bush is, we don’t have transportation issues in getting repair technicians in place, we have problems with theft and sabotage.

Recently, the whole area was without water for 5 days because theives had stolen the pump and water purification system from the community well. Talk about cutting your nose off to spite your face...

The electricity went out at 9 p.m.

“FAAAAAAAAAK!” I said very loudly, and instantly felt better.

I had consumed 2 big cups of coffee an hour earlier so I could stay up late and paint. Bigness was already asleep, but the dead calm blanket of air air woke him up.

“Better jump in the shower to cool off before the tank empties”, I called from the kitchen where I was looking for the lighter to get the candles going.

“FAAAAAAAAAK!” he said very loudly, and instantly felt better.

We lucked out, the water in the community well’s holding tank lasted until both of us could shower and I could fill up the two five gallon jugs we keep for spare water.

I unhooked the computer from the UPS battery backup and hooked the fan to it setting it on low to conserve the battery. It was so hot, the air hardly moving at all, like breathing through a blanket, the air hung on my neck.

The laptop battery was fully charged so I set it to low consumption and put in the DVD, “Teeth” a movie that I had just received from the bootleg movie guy. Every man’s nightmare, a cautionary tale. I love Indy movies, and this one won a Sundance Award and a bunch of others.

A totally pointless and psycho movie about a high school girl, not very in touch with her own body, and to put it simply, a girl who’s coco chews off boy carrots if they are not nice to her.

Bigness was my captive audience. I knew as long as the fan was semi-blowing, he wouldn’t stray too far.

It made him chuckle, and then laugh the unabashed belly laugh I love to hear, especially during the really gory parts, blood squirting, boy carrots being flung hither and yon. He stayed awake during the entire film, which is a record, since usually 30 minutes into any movie he’s snoring, unless there are nekkid ladies jumping up and down.

The movie finished, and the computer died. After 2 hours I called the electric company and a very nice young man answered the complaint line when I inquired why and for how long. He told me that someone had cut a high tension electricity pole with a chain saw to steal the copper from it. The electricity company techicians had to install a new pole.

THEIVES CUT DOWN A HIGH TENSION ELECTRIC LINE SERVICING THE WHOLE AREA TO STEAL THE COPPER FROM IT.

That just pissed me off.

I finally slipped off to sleep, sweating under the sheet that was keeping the mosquitoes at bay and woke up hours later to the sound of the big ceiling fan in the bedroom on high speed whamp whamp whamp sounding like a helicopter rotor, and the lights blazing through the house. Only, after turning the big overhead helicopter-sounding ceiling fan off, I realized that I was actually hearing a helicopter outside in the night. The only legitimate (read: legal) helicopter sounds we hear in the night are British military search and rescue. This wasn’t a British military helicopter I was hearing, this was someone else taking off and landing on the next field over. Helicopters in the night, are never a reassuring sound. I try to not ask too many questions, but why are helicopters taking off and landing in fields in the middle of the night just west of my little house in the bush near Mile 31 on the Western Highway?

Things will get worse before they will get better.

The Visitors

2008-10-03T16:01:00.004-06:00

I heard the neighbor’s dog bark, then the crickets stopped talking their sing song. I knew someone was approaching the house. The afternoon had slipped into evening and very few lights were burning, except for in my studio where I had spent all afternoon painting silk sarongs. I like it here in my little house in the bush, neighbors not too close, so quiet I hardly ever even hear car sounds from the highway a mile away.

Knock knock knock, at the front of the house, haloooooo anywan der? Halooooo, haloooooo, haloooo. Bam bam bam on the big steel door.

I think to myself, be gentle on that door whoever you are, or the newly installed alarms will announce themselves in the ear piercing squeal meant to warn me, and scare you.

I look at my watch, its 8 o’clock at night, pitch black dark. So absorbed in what I’m doing I haven’t put on the outside lights. No one comes a-knockin after dark unless its trouble. Even the Jehovah’s Wickedness missionaries only come to harass us in daylight hours.

I know its not my neighbor, Peanut with her baby boy, who lives across the way, because she hails me with her happy voice “Miss Lee Ann, Miss Lee Ann, whe yu deh, Miss Lee Ann.”

We don’t have doorbells here.

This voice calling me isn’t happy.

I walk down the hallway into the unlit living room and flip on the porch light. Its two women, one big and dark and angry, the other a Creole woman with her hair platted, and pretty face.

"Yes?"
I don’t open the door, instead I haul up the miniblind in the kitchen and speak to them through the window. Rule #4) Never open the door at night.

“Is your husband here?” the Creole woman asks

I answer, “Why do you want to know?”

“We want to talk to him about something”

“What is it you want to talk with him about?”

And on it goes back and forth, with me not revealing that he is not at home, that I am alone, and them not revealing what they want to talk about. Each of us doing our verbal dance around the other.

She finally relents and tells me that she wants to talk with him about calling the court case off, which goes to trial the next day. I had already figured out what they were after. They want to convince Bigness to call off the court case, the case that we have been waiting 9 months to go to trial. She wants to appeal for her lee bredda (little brother) how he sowry fa doing da ting and he promise to nevva evva steal from us again.

I lie.
I tell them that he’s resting.
I lie.
I was giving him a massage.
I lie
He’s not going to get up out of bed to talk to anybody.
I lie.
That I know from my experience that he’s hard headed and once he puts it into his mind to do something, nothing changes his mind. Well, I didn’t lie about the last part. I tell them to not waste their breath.

But still they persist, they think they can work their feminine treasures on him.

I apologize for my husband’s bad manners in not coming to the door to talk to them.

They say, start with an apology before you drop the bomb.

I take a deep breath and then let loose.

“This was no random break in. Your Lee Bredda knew which house to target because someone, probably his family has been watching me from back there,” and I point with my lips over their shoulder to the area where they came from,

I have a problem with, once I start blowing hot air, I have a hard time stopping myself.

“Someone has been stalking me, watching my comings and goings. He knew no one was at home”

“Your brother didn’t just drive up one night and decide this was a good house to pick and then haul the big steel doors off the side of the house with his car.”

“What he didn’t know is that we have a neighborhood watch, and keep a check on each other in this here street. We all know who is who and what is what.

“He teif me and get caught red handed, the police did their job, there’s no discussion. I hope he can rehabilitate himself in prison, get his high school diploma, maybe take some computer classes so when he comes out, he will be ready to do something besides steal.”

"Ahright den." the ladies say as they turn and leave.

I turn on the rest of the outside lights and then scurry to the bathroom to call my neighbors and then the police to report the harassment. Why the bathroom you ask? Its the only room in the house which is semi soundproof.

“Ah Miss Lee Ann, you aright?” Peanut is the first on my list of calls. “Me and Carmel Corn (her husband) see de people come up to your house and Carmel Corn haul out de machete and wait right by de door for watch and see iffan you be safe Miss Lee Ann, we watch for ah.”

I call Maria next, then Mr. Tony and give them the all clear. This area has become a passing through area for thieves and gangbangers from Belize City and Democracia.

I call Bigness and admonish him for leaving me alone the night before the trial, he should know how his people are. He had forgotten, they go after the family. I didn't sleep well that night.

Trial and Error

I woke early and had to leave for Belize City driving along the Western Highway to reach before 9 a.m. I parked the car at the Water Taxi lot and walked the two blocks to the Magistrate's Court. The arresting officer was already there and introduced himself to me as we stood on the courthouse steps. Bigness had ironed his shirt, tucked it into his pants, ironed his pants, was wearing a belt and shoes. Already the sun was hot. There was a delay, one of the prisoners had escaped and they had to catch him before proceeding with the trial. Oh joy!

We stood outside, and stood and stood and stood, making small talk. Several women tried calling to Bigness and I over and over again. The family of the thieves trying to appeal to our sense of something or another. I turned my back on them and hardened my heart. Bigness gave them his monster face. Lots of people milling around on the courthouse steps and I asked Bigness who they were. Two of the three thieves were right there right nearby. The arresting officer realized I was melting and put us in a side courtroom which was air conditioned to wait out the negotiations. You see, the ringleader had hired himself Liar (lawyer) and was claiming innocence even though they were caught red handed with the stolen goods. It came down to, did we want to go thru with a big trial which could take months and months wasting the court’s time when there were murderers to prosecute, and in the meantime all of our stuff would spoil in the police lockup. Or, were we willing to let them offer a plea bargain. One of Belize’s problems is inexperienced prosecutors trying to make the best of a jacked up system. The prosecutor on this case was a police sergeant. I am not blaming him for what happened next, its just a cautionary tale. The criminal attorneys are experienced, they know the law inside and out, and have been working the system for years. It seemed like when the prosecutor was faced with going up against this attorney, he backed down. So the plea bargain was offered and accepted. Two of the boys got off with time served and one (the driver) got one year for handling stolen goods, a lower offence than breaking and entering with the use of a vehicle.

I asked the police officer how much the lawyer charged the family and he told me it was nearly as much as if they had just bought the stuff and not stolen it. It took several days to get our stuff back, much of it was broken, some missing. Brand new items spoiled forever.

I stopped caring right about when I had to stand out in the sun that morning with the thieves watching me and calling to me to please feel mercy. I now know who I will hire if ever I'm in trouble.

Photo Friday - August 29 - Excercise

2008-09-02T00:44:00.002-06:00

The last golden days of summer, May and Jelly Bean chase each other aound the fountain.

The Detroit Show

2008-09-01T07:03:00.006-06:00

"ModernTechnology Meets Art" is the name of the exhibition ongoing with Ted Johnson at River's Edge Gallery in Wyandotte, Michigan

The thing is, my life seems to be coming together at the 11th hour. It is not for lack of planning, the plans are there... its just coming to fruition at the last possible moment, something breaks through. The plane ticket was purchased 2 days before flying from Cancun to Detroit, so I had to leave a day early to travel up the Yucatan to get from here to there. Bigness drove me to Chetumal, where I took the midnight bus to Playa Del Carmen, Mexico arriving at 4:30 a.m. I took a 10 minute cab ride from the ADO bus station to the other bus station where you take the shuttle to the airport. We had purchased snacks at Chedraui (the Mexican equivalent of Walmart) in Chetumal for me to have breakfast, some baked goods, a bottled coffee drink, peelable fruit. I avoided anything with meat in it. I arrived at the airport bus shuttle terminal a couple of hours before it opened, although it never physically closes, the ticket cages were empty, and all the benches were filled with sleeping people draped like they were melting in a Salvador Dali painting. I was so tired, already, and hungry. I ate my breakfast and then spread my windbreaker jacket on the floor of the bus station and layed down to take a little rest before running the gauntlet in the airport. I layed my head on my suitcase, wedged my carryon back pack behind me and physically layed on top of my purse. I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up about an hour later my stomach was ROLLING. You know the feeling, its the oops, what's happening to me feeling, I'm getting sweaty and clammy and I NEED TO FIND THE BATHROOM SOON! No one was stirring yet as it was still before 6 a.m., and the bathrooms were up the long long stairs. So, I drug my suitcase up up up, backpack on my back, and was confronted with the turnstyle entrance to the bathroom. I hoisted my suitcase over the turnstyle tipping it inside the entrance and let it drop, hoping that there were enough clothes inside my suitase to cushion the laptop from the fall (there were). I put my 3 pesos into the machine and stepped into the turnstyle with my backpack still on my back, not wanting to launch it over the barrier as it contained my camera. I got about 6 inches into the turn and the turstyle stopped. It appeared that I hadn't launched my suitcase far enough and the edge was caught in the turnstyle, and with the backpack on my back, I couldn't really move my arms . I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck. A sense of urgency is about to explode from the depths within me. I can hear footsteps on the stairs behind me, let it be someone who can help I say to myself, and look over my right shoulder at a little girl, a real little girl with 3 pesos in her hand. And I said in my best immitation of a spanish accent "Por Favor". She climbed the gate, unstuck the suitcase, I passed through the turnstyle, she climbed back over, inserted her 3 pesos into the slot and passed through next. I did what I came to do and left for the airport with a burgeoning case of food poisoning, which had me sick for almost a week. I got better the day before the opening.

River's Edge Gallery scheduled a meet the artist reception the same night as the Wyandotte Wine Crawl. What a great idea. The downtown merchants sponsored it by buying the wine that was served at each establishment that participated, and 1000 wine glasses were sold. You would purchase a wine glass and go from place to place tasting samples of Michigan wines. If I look a little bit drunk in the photos, it is because I AM. The reception and show response and attendance was great, and the show will continue to hang in River's Edge Gallery until September 13. After that, you can still purchase the peices from them. Christmas is on its way. In my absence, Supergirl

and my Dad did all the framing and delivered the show to the gallery by the due date. I could have never achieved this without their dedicated assistance.

Check out the show review at The Detroit Fashion Pages.

Doing the Caye Caulker Shuffle

2008-05-15T11:08:00.009-06:00

I know you all have been waiting for me to post an update. Where are you and what are you doing emails come daily. Long silence from me. Sorry. I've been composing this blog entry for nearly months, but wanted to wait to see all that would unfold.

When I arrived back in Belize at the end of October, Bignesss announced some BIG news. He wanted to sell the beachfront property on Caye Caulker. I kept the news to myself mostly, only sharing it with close friends who weren’t limelighter’s prone to gossip. I stopped announcing my upcoming plans a while ago because it keeps me one step ahead of the bitches and ho’s. It gives them less time to plot and plan against me.

So, I entered high season, not with trepidation, but with the beginning of a plan. No matter how long it takes, this property will sell. It is one of only a few pieces of prime commercial beachfront property available on Caye Caulker. He’s tired of maintaining this gigantic house, which when you add the upstairs to the downstairs is more than 6,000 s.f. The oldtimers are leaving Caye Caulker and leasing out their property or selling up and moving to the mainland away from hurricane threats and the high cost of living on an island.

Here is the shuffle that started last year:
Rasta Pasta’s lease was up, and they moved down the street. The property right across the street from us, which belonged to one of Bigness’s sisters and housed Barrier Reef Sports Bar sold last year and became Agave Restaurant, and the Sports Bar, having lost their place moved into where RP was, totally renovating the space. Smooth moves for everyone.

Supergirl took UNbaby back to the U.S. to start school in September 2007 and got a good job which was only to tide her over until high season started. She decided to stay and go back to college. What can I say, given a choice between serving coffee or becoming a secondary education teacher with a minor in history, I think she made the right choice.

So there I was, property coming up for sale soon and my #1 girl back in the U.S. living her own life. I coped, gave it my all, and the store did great. I hired Shirls with her big smile, to take over some of Supergirl’s duties, and everyone worked a little bit extra. I also did some soul searching and questioned where I was at and what I was doing. Do I want to do this for the rest of my life? Is my life, being a shop keeper on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere? Or is it as a world traveler, traveling around with the love of my life by my side, enjoying seeing new things and meeting new people, showing and selling my art.

In August 2007 we hunkered down for hurricane Dean, and then hurricane Felix slid by in September. I reflected on the fact that I had spent a year turning down shows, because I didn’t have enough time. I knew I had to clear the slate to get more studio time. It’s a daunting task to change direction, to take a risk on doing something new. No guarantees.

So I came back to the U.S. with a purpose, to get a show, and I got 2 shows. The first is at River’s Edge Gallery, voted metro Detroit’s #1 gallery by The Detroit News which opens the 3rd Friday in July, 2008 and runs through August. My work will be featured in July and August and in the front window of the gallery during the Wyandotte Street Art fair. My work isn't on their website yet, but it wll be soon

The second show is in New York City at the Agora Gallery, in the Chelsea district. I was accepted into the Latin American Artists exhibition which opens September 9, with a reception September 11, and it runs through to the end of September.

They reviewed my work and I’m in their upcoming art publication “Artist Spectrum” magazine which has a publication of 50,000 and distribution in NYC.
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“The Detroit born artist, Lee Vanderwalker, now lives and breathes the vibrant culture of Belize, calling upon its history and aesthetic as a foundation for her art. The difficult medium of hand-painted silk, combined with her use of rich, smoldering colors, makes the work vibrate. Each culturally driven scene and image tells a story that is at once derived from the region and universal. Her depictions of village and island life, still-lifes of flowers and window-framed seas, and dream-like figures, masks, and Mayan symbols, come to life with each fold of silk and each vivid texture. Her work is exotic yet comforting, enticing in the way that traveling is or getting lost in a familiar book. These deceptively simple works spring from the complexity of tradition and weave together the deep roots of artistic history. In this world of velvety jungles begging to be explored and Caribbean legends hungry to be told, Vanderwalker's paintings allow the viewer to indulge in the distant adventure we all desire.”
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I thought the review was quite sexy and they didn't just rehash the same old things that have been written about me for 10 years.

The one thing I’ve learned in life is that if opportunity knocks, you better answer the door. On Caye Caulker, most prime retail spaces are never publicly available or advertised, but are known word of mouth and by recommendation. My Belizean friend Eva, the massage therapist made a proposal. She wanted to have a giftshop gallery and sell healing jewelry and art. It fit the bill because I didn’t want to have to manage the day-to-day operations of a store, yet I didn’t want to give up the income. The building she is in, is located next to Madeline’s hardware, and Jan’s Place. So I went for it. Eva expanded her business and became a day spa, moving to the upstairs suite in her building and I helped her open Healing Touch Day Spa and Caribbean Art gallery. The gallery is on the ground floor and does the booking for the day spa. Miss Barbara came with me to the new store, Shirls opened her own coffee shop/cafe next to the Atlantic Bank, so all you coffee addicts (me included) now know where to get the same great brew, at Java House on Middle Streeet. She's open at 6:30 a.m.

As soon as the deal was done, Bigness approached Lloyd from the Sports Bar about taking over my space, and he considered it for about 2 seconds before saying yes. He’s opened a Mexican take away and has my art and prints for sale also. The best part is that I just go one day a week to take care of business. I plan on shooting more weddings in this upcoming year. It looks like I have a knack for it.

Whisper, whisper, whisper, goes the rumour on the street. At first it was funny to hear the rumours, then it just became annoying, so I had to tell my friends: "Stop telling me the crap people are saying." So, to dispell all the rumors, no I didn't shut my store down, no Bigness did not take me out of his building because we are getting a divorce. How could he? I'm Mrs. Bigness and to all the bitches and the hos - don't ever forget that.

Photos: black and white sunsets shot from the roof of the split at Hope and Ken's wedding reception on Caye Caulker

Photo Friday - April 11 - Fragile

2008-04-12T16:47:00.002-06:00

There's a famous saying for what I see when I look at this recent photograph of a wedding at Caye Chapel. I just can't think of it. Check out more Photo Friday submissions.

Photo Friday - April 4 - Far From Home

2008-04-04T06:56:00.005-06:00

We did a house swap in Cozumel over Easter with someone I found on house swapping website. It was our first, and a learning experience. My sole purpose in going to Cozumel was to find a purple Volkswagen Beetle and photograph it. I completed my mission. (no... this is not a photo of where we stayed) I have from time to time been trying to get a swap for at least a year now, off and on, checking in checking back, sending inquiries.

First lesson: never assume anything. The place was in general, clean enough and almost O.K. after Bigness fixed the toilet, which is good in itself, because for at least 1/2 hour he wasn't bored. The place was a bit rusty and dusty. I can say for certain, that they got the better of the deal, but who's complaining, it was free accommodations in place that is usually expensive. The best feature was being 1-1/2 blocks from a giant Chedraui, the Mexican version of Walmart.

Second lesson: If I expect our house to be clean when we arrive back, I need to state that in a note to the swapper, what exactly it is that I expect them to do regarding cleaning up after themselves. Change the bed sheets, take your shoes off before entering the house, sweep and mop, clean the bathroom and kitchen, trash taken to the barrell and not left on the verandah, no taking livingroom or bedroom furniture out onto the verandah, no, no, no. Don't assume that they will leave your house in the same clean state that you have left theirs.

Would I do this again with her? Probably yes. I would be more specific in what I expected though. Life, its a learning experience.

A few days before the vacation, I had stepped wrong while carrying trays of brownies down the beach stairs and to the cafe. Don't worry, I saved the brownies. Its not quite clear yet still what the damage is, initially the right knee was swollen up like a watermelon, and I couldn't put any pressure on it at all. The doctor had to come and attend to me at home. We have a public clinic here on Caye Caulker, staffed by a Cuban doctor, who lives at the clinic. The Cuban Health system is superior to anything I've ever experienced. This doctor is trained from early in his career that he is RESPONSIBLE for the health of his community. HE IS RESPONSIBLE... to take care of us. It is ingrained. Its not about making money because they don't have money there, not like we have here. In Cuba they ahve 1 doctor for every 100 people. He thought it was probably tendons, and probably it is, although its making that weird crackling sound when I move it. If I was in aMerica, it would have been a costly trip to the emergency room for sure. Here, if its after dark, its not an emergency unless you've been shot, stabbed or broken your back. If you break your leg after dark, they put you on a boat (and you pay for it) and off to Belize City you go. If you break your back, they will call in the British Military rescue helicopter. They have to allow 4 hours for the chopper. And for any of you that don't know it already, O.J. from Oceanside Bar is our emergency person for Caye Caulker. Nurse Donna from the clinic is 2nd in charge for calling in the rescue chopper. So, next time you're here, be nice to O.J., because he just might be the man to save your life. So, 3 days bedrest was prescribed and some really nice injections. Its just not possible for me to be layed up in bed for so long unless I'm nauseated and can't sit up. While he was making his house call he took Bigness's blood pressure and reminded him about the low cholesteral diet he was supposed to be on. Bigness said "Uh, huh," and then put down his fried pork chop.

So we started the trip out with a little handicap (me) and knee wrapped. I had to hold onto Bigness as I wobbled and hopped on one leg through Mexican immigration. When checking out of Belize they didn't even make me get out of the car. Fortunately for me, there's a lot to hold onto with Bigness, and his grab handles are well placed. The trip to Cozumel was uneventful, we make the trip to Playa Del Carmen, several times a year. It starts with a car ride to Chetumal, Mexico, leaving the car in the mall parking lot under a light, then a taxi to the bus station, then a 4-1/2 hour bus ride to Playa Del Carmen and then a 45 minute water taxi ride to Cozumel. We arrived late in the evening and gave the address to the cab driver because we didn't reallly know where we were going. 10 minutes later we pulled up, and the key was hidden right where she said it would be, and we let ourselves in. It was midnight.

The next day I was curious about the lady. I didn't poke and pry and sniff around, I just looked at the pictures on the wall, the color choices, the decorating and the photos. This is not CSI Miami. I did not have the magnifying glass and tweezers out.

I made some assumptions:

-She was small and short, the doorways were short, the livingroom furniture was small, and Bigness had to duck through to move from room to room. The doorways are always small in Mexico, Bigness informed me, its dem small people. The lower items were dust free, the higher items were dusty (wrong - she was as tall as me)

-She liked TV, for there was a TV in each bedroom and the livingroom (probably right)

-She was in her early 50s and a widow, lots of dusty silk flower arrangements and kitschy fish knick knacks. (wrong - much younger, and not sure of the marital status)

-She has short hair. I have long hair and shed like bigfoot. Hair in my drain, hair on the brush, hair hair hair everywhere, its a problem. I found no hair anywhere. (wrong - she has long hair)

-She likes wine because I saw 4 wine cork screws in the silverware drawer, and she had an empty wine rack in a cupboard (probably correct)

-She liked men (probably right, because she brought a boyfriend to Belize)

-Her favorite color combination is orange and turquoise (probably right as those were the predominant colors)

-She loves tropical fish, there was an encyclopedia of tropical fish on the stand under the TV, hand-painted fish plates on the table, starfish candles, a framed Matisse print on the wall of a glass bowl on a table with fish. The guest towels in the bathroom were decorated with fish. She had ceramic fish hanging on the walls.

She had a few complaints about us, the sink drain in the kitchen ran slow, which is true, for the past 2 weeks. (its fixed now) The water pressure up and down. True again, that's life living on an island with no municipal water supply, we rely on wells and cisterns. We have a 100 gallon gravity feed reservior on the roof and if the demand is high, the water comes slow. Hey, we're lucky we even HAVE water, its the dry season. Its like everything here in Belize, don't get too upset about it, because if you do, its just going to take longer. Everything is a little bit broken, just like the government.

Illustration Friday - Garden - March 14

2008-03-14T12:48:00.004-06:00

Red hibiscus flower from my friend's garden, hand-painted silk 24" x 24"

Love in the Afternoon

2008-03-14T03:55:00.012-06:00

Caye Chapel, what a lovely place. Located just minutes south of Caye Caulker, you pass it right before you reach Caye Caulker when you arrive via water taxi from Belize City. It always amuses me when the water taxi stops there to drop off workers, and the tourists say in awe and wonder... "Is this Caye Caulker??? WOOOWWWW!!! I didn't know Caye Caulker had a golf course. This looks way better than in the guide books."

Sometimes I quietly tell the person next to me that is it "Ahem... not Caye Caulker, its a private island. $1000 bucks a night here..." But most of the time I keep quiet and count one-onethousand, two-onethousand, three-onethousand, and usually by four-onethousand, the gushing has stilled because they have read the sign that says "Private Island" and have seen the security guards.

It is self contained with its own power plant, water plant, a golf course, club house, swimming pool, bar, restaurant, little mansions on the east side and casitas on the west side, plus a deep water marina for you to put your yacht in. Caye Caulker - I WISH!

(The young Belizean man in the foreground was an amazing and accomplished saxaphone player. For someone so young, he knew all the old sexy, slowdance, kiss me on the neck and hug me up songs. I was IMPRESSED)

I was surprised and pleased when I got the request for information on wedding photography. So I quickly sent them the link to my flickr photography site which I recently upgraded to a Pro account. If this all sounds like the lead in to a shameless infomercial, it IS. I would like to do more wedding photography.
So, I put on my "good clothes" and tried to not get dirty. It was difficult though, because the weather had turned what we like to call "cold" which means temperatures under 75 degrees F, and hard breeze from the west, so the water taxi dropping me off had to go on the east side of the island. On arrival, I literally slung my equipment UP onto the peir and crawled out of the boat as Harrison grabbed me and pulled me steady.

Those embarrassing moments are best met with humour, so I turned around and gave a curtsey and announced "Well that was fun" to the departing water taxi. I got a little bit of applause and cheers, plus some open mouth stares. Alway remember the rule your mother told you about wearing clean underwear, you never can tell who will be looking. I brushed myself off and checked for bird poop and walked to the golf cart and cold bottle of water waiting for me.

So my first wedding shoot there went pretty well, even though the photographer was more nervous than the bride, as usual. I've learned to accept it, I think it gives me my edge, which with art we all need our edge. The couple and their friends were so nice, and the staff at Caye Chapel, helpful and attentive.

I spent my conscious thoughts on trying not to sweat or hyperventilate, the shooting was easy, the conditions perfect. The weather gave us a break for a while. It was cool enough that the groom was able to wear his Scottish kilt and whole getup including daggar in his woolen socks and real brogue shoes. The bride was barefoot, of course.

Less work for me, I was thinking, as I did not have to scour the beach looking for stray trash that might interfere with the photos, or have to be airbrushed out later, the beaches are raked clean from dawn each day. I also didn't have to shoo any dogs out of the pictures, or quietly shoosh local children, but that is the charm of Caye Caulker. My thoughts strayed to the wedding months back where UNBaby (in her blue bathing suit) held the lace train still from the breeze, for a bride who was wearing a vintage 1970s dress from her mother in law while I photographed them sitting on the little rough bench in front of Tia Ilna's house. And now UNBaby is in school in aMerica, wearing shoes every day.

We put the FUN in the word FUNKY. The dogs, the drunks, bicycles, the kids, the rastas, the seagrass, the split, that is WHO WE ARE.