1.31.2012
the horses
#6: Contrary to the popular Texas myth, Belizeans actually do ride their horses to school...and to work...and to the market...and to the bank. Horses serve as the primary means of transportation for many people in the country, and it is entirely commonplace to see a man on his horse, trotting down the highway. In fact many times owners don't even bother to secure their horses in any way when they are in town on business, so it is quite possible to see one or two horses just standing around, enjoying the day with no observable purpose or master (apparently stealing horses is not a common practice). Horses are just another part of everyday life, and another aspect of Belizean society.
1.26.2012
Fleet Foxes
As of late, I've been listening to Fleet Foxes quite a bit, and they are wonderful. Their folk/rock sound is beautiful and completely calming, and each of their songs has some novel talent to offer. If you're a daydreamer like me, then you will have a field day with this album. The music makes you feel as if you should be living in a forest and chatting away with all of its little woodland creatures, like a modern day Disney princess (at least that's how I feel).
It was ridiculously difficult to choose one song to showcase their talent, and I decided on "Sim Sala Bim" because I believe it to contain a little bit of everything I adore about Fleet Foxes: gorgeous harmonies, a nice acoustic sound, and a tune that reminds me of a gypsy's theme music. This ensemble knows how to make incredible music, and I hope you enjoy them.
"Sim Sala Bim" by Fleet Foxes from the album Helplessness Blues
1.24.2012
1.23.2012
selflessness
So I'm back in action in Belmopan, and this past week was pretty awesome for the most part. I fell right back into routine as if I'd never left, and I'm enjoying everything even more than I was before the holidays. I still have my morning lesson with the little ones at Marla's and then spend the afternoons as a tutor for the older kids at Marla's and King's. And yes, the weather is still amazing all the time: sunny and warm with a little rain every few days (although I hear in a couple of months the heat gets pretty brutal). In fact, almost nothing about Belize has changed much since I've been gone. But there is a big part of it that is now missing...Richard.
Little Richard is one of the little ones I teach in the mornings, and he is probably the most precious child I have ever laid eyes on. I would describe him as a round, baby Taylor Lautner, and oh my goodness, he has the cutest little voice and laugh in the world. I could go on for hours about how perfect he is, but let’s just sum up my adoration by saying that I absolutely love him and spent the past few months scheming up a way to make him mine. No, I’m not kidding, I really have been trying to contrive a way to adopt him (and if you still think I’m joking then ask my parents, it’s true). But apparently someone beat me to it, because Richard is now off with a wonderful family...without me.
Now I know what you’re thinking, shouldn’t I be happy that he found someone to love and take care of him? And the answer is that yes, I should be very grateful and excited that he has found a family to call his own, and I really am, but I still miss him so much. It’s such a frustrating feeling because I realize that wanting him back is nothing but selfishness, and yet I can’t force the feeling away. And if you’re reading this and thinking to yourself “Come on homegirl, it’s just one little boy. Aren’t there fifty more you can still play with?”, then you make a very valid argument, but you don’t understand how much I love this child. I don’t think I could love him more if he really was my Richard. In fact he accidentally called me “Mommy” one afternoon; and listen, if you ever want your heart to melt, have a 3 year old orphan call you “Mommy.”
But anyways, back to my original point, which is this: I learned a big lesson last week on selflessness. I want Richard back more than I can explain, but deep down what I truly want for him is a happy, loving family that he can call his own. I don’t believe that it is selfish to miss him, but it is selfish to want him to return to a less admirable situation when he has such an ideal one now. In situations like this one, you have to remember that it isn’t about you, or what you want. It’s about keeping others’ best interests at heart, and being proud or excited or supportive of them, even when it hurts. Your happiness is important, but when it steps on the goals or hopes of people you care about, it’s not right. We need to learn to step back and find a new joy in their delight, rather than always looking to satisfy our own happiness. I think you’ll find that it is just as rewarding (if not more so) to reap contentment from others’ successes and triumphs, as it is from your own.
Now I know what you’re thinking, shouldn’t I be happy that he found someone to love and take care of him? And the answer is that yes, I should be very grateful and excited that he has found a family to call his own, and I really am, but I still miss him so much. It’s such a frustrating feeling because I realize that wanting him back is nothing but selfishness, and yet I can’t force the feeling away. And if you’re reading this and thinking to yourself “Come on homegirl, it’s just one little boy. Aren’t there fifty more you can still play with?”, then you make a very valid argument, but you don’t understand how much I love this child. I don’t think I could love him more if he really was my Richard. In fact he accidentally called me “Mommy” one afternoon; and listen, if you ever want your heart to melt, have a 3 year old orphan call you “Mommy.”
But anyways, back to my original point, which is this: I learned a big lesson last week on selflessness. I want Richard back more than I can explain, but deep down what I truly want for him is a happy, loving family that he can call his own. I don’t believe that it is selfish to miss him, but it is selfish to want him to return to a less admirable situation when he has such an ideal one now. In situations like this one, you have to remember that it isn’t about you, or what you want. It’s about keeping others’ best interests at heart, and being proud or excited or supportive of them, even when it hurts. Your happiness is important, but when it steps on the goals or hopes of people you care about, it’s not right. We need to learn to step back and find a new joy in their delight, rather than always looking to satisfy our own happiness. I think you’ll find that it is just as rewarding (if not more so) to reap contentment from others’ successes and triumphs, as it is from your own.
This, of course, is Richard. I knew you'd love him too.
1.18.2012
the language
Fun Fact #5: Although the official language of Belize is English, most of the population speaks both English and Spanish with ease. So for someone like me, who took Spanish all throughout my schooling, it seems like a pretty nice deal. I can speak English on a regular basis, but if necessary I know enough Spanish to survive. Nice, right? That's when they throw the Creole at you. In theory, I'm fairly certain that Creole is a combination of English and French, but it's an entirely different story from the Creole I've heard in New Orleans, and I cannot understand it whatsoever. Here are a couple of example sentences:
Creole: Weh di go aan.
Translation: What's going on?
Creole: Da weh ih deh?
Translation: Where is he?
Yeah I know, it's insane. Try keeping up with multiple teenage girls who are all using it at once. You know what it's like to go to a nail salon for a pedicure and be so self conscious the entire time because all of the workers are speaking in Chinese and laughing, and you just know that it's about you? That's exactly what it's like to be surrounded by people speaking Creole. It's impossible to pick up, and usually I catch about every 15th word or so. I don't know how they do it, but Creole is probably the most difficult language I've ever come across, and it's one aspect of Belizean culture that I won't be able to bring back with me.
Creole: Weh di go aan.
Translation: What's going on?
Creole: Da weh ih deh?
Translation: Where is he?
Yeah I know, it's insane. Try keeping up with multiple teenage girls who are all using it at once. You know what it's like to go to a nail salon for a pedicure and be so self conscious the entire time because all of the workers are speaking in Chinese and laughing, and you just know that it's about you? That's exactly what it's like to be surrounded by people speaking Creole. It's impossible to pick up, and usually I catch about every 15th word or so. I don't know how they do it, but Creole is probably the most difficult language I've ever come across, and it's one aspect of Belizean culture that I won't be able to bring back with me.
1.17.2012
Passion Pit
Since I was talking about “Sleepyhead” earlier, I figured I’d let you in on the treasure that is Passion Pit. You’ve probably heard a couple of their songs before like “Sleepyhead” and “Little Secrets” and never really bothered to listen to the rest of the album. So I am here to rectify the situation and show you the light...all of their songs are incredible. I’m not entirely sure what genre they would fall into; I don’t think I’d quite consider them dub-step, but alternative is much too broad. I suppose you could consider them a meld of the two if you really wanted, and that might be the closest you could get. Whatever you want to call them, they have a light sound that reminds me a little of summertime and always makes me want to start grooving. If you can listen to this entire album without a strong desire to dance, then you probably don’t have a soul. It’s harsh, but I feel confident that you’ll be moving by the second song, so I’m not too worried about it.
"Moth's Wings" by Passion Pit from the album Manners
"Sleepyhead" by Passion Pit from the album Manners
1.16.2012
dancing
Okay okay, I know I've been terrible at keeping up the past few weeks, but listen, I have a defense. I've been at home in Amarillo for the holidays, and A. I've been spending time with my family so writing was not my top priority, and B. no one really wants to know about my life in Amarillo. Trust me, it can get pretty dull in the panhandle of Texas, and you don't want to hear a narration of my nonexistent social life there. But now I'm back in Belize, and I promise I'll be better about keeping you updated.
My only mode of transportation in Belize is a bicycle, so whenever I fly into the country I usually spend a few days in Belize City until I can hitch a ride with someone who is traveling to Belmopan, which was my situation this weekend. Belize City isn't exactly known for it's safe environment, so I don't spend too much time wandering it's unfamiliar streets. And even though it's only for a day or two, being cooped up in a house all day can get obnoxious, and it forces me to create my own entertainment. Now I am lacking in many skill areas, but one area I have never fallen short in is imagination. Lucky for me, I'm pretty easily entertained and good at entertaining myself.
So to keep myself busy in the house, I enjoyed the ancient art of dance. If you are picturing a choreographed, practiced routine that the backstreet boys might have used, then you’re wrong. But if you have a mental image of me jumping and flailing around with no apparent rhythm, then you are dead on. I am by no means a talented dancer, but that doesn’t stop me from being a very confident dancer (ask any of my friends), and I have been known to break it down in places such as school hallways, Dallas crosswalks, and various Walmarts, just to name a few (I also always use dancing as my cool down after I run). So if you know me at all, the idea of me spending the afternoon by jumping around like an idiot to Passion Pit’s “Sleepyhead” should come as no surprise to you. And you know what, it was awesome. But the point is that you don’t have to be any good at dancing in order to enjoy it, especially when you’re the only person around to witness it. So don’t ever be afraid to release your inner child and dance around in your pajamas. I’m not a therapist, but I actually believe it’s really healthy to let loose and release some anxiety that way. Dancing is incredibly therapeutic and fun, and not to mention sweat-inducing, and I highly encourage everyone to bust a move every now and then. In fact next time you’re having a downer day, crank up some (insert music artist of choice here), and act like the dancing diva you always knew you’d be when you grew up. As my close friend Lady Gaga would say, “Just Dance”.
My only mode of transportation in Belize is a bicycle, so whenever I fly into the country I usually spend a few days in Belize City until I can hitch a ride with someone who is traveling to Belmopan, which was my situation this weekend. Belize City isn't exactly known for it's safe environment, so I don't spend too much time wandering it's unfamiliar streets. And even though it's only for a day or two, being cooped up in a house all day can get obnoxious, and it forces me to create my own entertainment. Now I am lacking in many skill areas, but one area I have never fallen short in is imagination. Lucky for me, I'm pretty easily entertained and good at entertaining myself.
So to keep myself busy in the house, I enjoyed the ancient art of dance. If you are picturing a choreographed, practiced routine that the backstreet boys might have used, then you’re wrong. But if you have a mental image of me jumping and flailing around with no apparent rhythm, then you are dead on. I am by no means a talented dancer, but that doesn’t stop me from being a very confident dancer (ask any of my friends), and I have been known to break it down in places such as school hallways, Dallas crosswalks, and various Walmarts, just to name a few (I also always use dancing as my cool down after I run). So if you know me at all, the idea of me spending the afternoon by jumping around like an idiot to Passion Pit’s “Sleepyhead” should come as no surprise to you. And you know what, it was awesome. But the point is that you don’t have to be any good at dancing in order to enjoy it, especially when you’re the only person around to witness it. So don’t ever be afraid to release your inner child and dance around in your pajamas. I’m not a therapist, but I actually believe it’s really healthy to let loose and release some anxiety that way. Dancing is incredibly therapeutic and fun, and not to mention sweat-inducing, and I highly encourage everyone to bust a move every now and then. In fact next time you’re having a downer day, crank up some (insert music artist of choice here), and act like the dancing diva you always knew you’d be when you grew up. As my close friend Lady Gaga would say, “Just Dance”.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)