Shaking the Superflux June 12, 2022

O,I have ta’en

Too little care of this! Take physic, pomp;

Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel,

That thou mayst shake the superflux to them,

And show the heavens more just.

     King Lear, Shakespeare

San Pedro is built on Ambergis Caye, named ironically after sperm whale shit, once important in fixing perfumes. There was enough perfume rising from the fetid brown puddles of rotting sargassum along the shoreline to fix anything or anybody and its toxicity varied according to the wind and tides. Most of the larger properties employed a man to clear it away as much as possible, but there were gaps where the seaweed accumulated into vast piles which acted like barriers. The owners of the larger properties, most of which were rented out, had constructed concrete edging, and backfilled it with white sand and crushed coral. Every morning, without fail, the men went out with rakes, smoothing the sand out and removing any debris which had fallen from the coconut trees. Maintaining paradise required effort. (NB: the straight lines in the sand)

 Every morning I took a stroll along the beach to watch the birds and note progress. The ferries and boats passed at what seemed to me remarkable speeds given the modest acceleration of golf carts on land, as they  ferried people back and forth from Belize City or to the different cayes or to snorkel or dive on the reef. It’s a beautiful spot. One morning two ospreys swept nonchalantly along the shoreline; frigate birds wheeled effortless on the air and little white-rumped swiftlets careened easily over the sargassum picking up flies which they fed to their chicks sitting on the concrete edges and fluttering their wings whenever the parent bird flew past.

 

It’s a beautiful spot. The beach houses are magnificent and judging from the diggers and trucks passing the front of the house, more are being built. Companies and individuals are investing in the infrastructure of the island which creates wealth and jobs for the local economy. American tourists, attracted by the picturesque beauty and the reefs buy condos and apartments. A hundred yards from us was one of the swankiest, most beautiful houses, complete with a immaculate tennis court and appropriately named, WhatAView.  I never saw anyone living there. You can look it up online. As far as I could tell it is rented for $2350 per night. And… there were others.

Our apartment, one of six at Tranquility Beach Club at $140 per night was modest by comparison though well- appointed and comfortable. We were in the middle flat  at the bottom. Most of the sounds, if not all, in the other five apartments filtered down through us. Brian and his wife to the left had just bought theirs and were remodeling. The wonderfully affable George and his wife from Sonoma in the top middle bought his back in 2006 and was overseeing an overhaul of the water system. This required the workmen to go in and out of all the apartments, cutting off pipes, turning off water and drilling generally. What with the trucks and diggers and the putter of golf carts going backwards and forward, Tranquility was perhaps something of a misnomer?

All the Belizeans we met and got to know in San Pedro were not in any way put out by the huge disparities of wealth. They were servicing a tourist industry which brought in jobs and investment and kept the economy going. They were affable and personable. That they were never likely to be able to enjoy the standard of living enjoyed by the tourists didn’t surface. It was just a fact of life. The same attitudes permeated the conversations in the new restaurant we discovered just up the road, The Black Orchid, named after Belize’s national flower. Nearly all the locals had homes and family back on the mainland but had come to San Pedro because wages were higher and there were more opportunities. Their friendliness seemed just ordinary not a facade to be put on to keep customers happy. 

http://www.blackorchidrestaurant.com  Even Michael,the young Indian man who ran the corner store just along the road, lit up when I walked in and insisted, I try his mother’s freshly baked cinnamon bread or her squares of tasty banana cake. The store was so small and narrow that swinging a mouse rather than a cat would have been challenging. Outside there was a bench where a stream of local, hot, sweaty and unshaven workmen stopped for a beer and a cigarette and yattered  away in Creole eyeing me suspiciously out of the corner of their eyes.

 

When I expressed dismay to Michael over the price of Tanqueray Gin, he put one finger in the air, pronounced “Ah” knowledgeably, gave me a special price for a large bottle of white rum and nodded his head approvingly. It proved palatable when mixed with tonic and limes. Having finished my purchases, he added up all the prices tapping on a manual calculator but after a while I gathered this was just a cover and that prices were variable. As long as we eventually reached  a mutually agreeable total, all was well, and we were both happy.

 

By the end of the first week, despite all the difficulties, we relaxed and joined neighbors in the little pool where we met Suzie and her husband, who like us, were traveling the world but as international dog sitters. They were registered on a website and in demand and they had house sat dogs in Switzerland, Germany, Spain and lots of other countries. Marney picked Suzie’s brain about medical insurance and got to work pricing some emergency medical services for Colombia. Unfortunately, just when we were settling in, the weather changed. The wind picked up and grew blustery, there was thunder and lightning at night, the mosquitoes grew fiercer, and the roads became a  slippery mess of white coral sludge. Plants either side of the road were also caked in white powder.

 

So… we never got out to the reef to either snorkel or scuba dive but just watched the white line of waves in the distance. We did discover the restaurant –  Blue Water Grill where the breeze came through and the cook perfected a plate of fried calamari, which was beyond any fried calamari I had tasted before. Everything perfect –  every time.

 

This youngster below was selling little hand- made  bracelets in the restaurant. He spoke beautiful English (probably should have been at school) and would have graced a Hollywood movie with his movements and looks.  How much human potential do we waste ? How much talent never sees the light of day because of poverty?  We did our best to shake a bit of the “superflux” in his direction.  His sister came by the next day looking just as innocent and beautiful and Marney bought a yellow beaded bracelet from her. Do we care enough? What can we do to make a difference? What does it profit a man if…

 Always these unanswered questions. “Life is a dream, but we wake up sometimes, just long enough to know that we are dreaming.”