Traveling in Belize, Cuba, and Guatemala

by Bill Thornton

Belize, My Second Home —
Maybe Even My First!

     My 8th grade geography assignment was to make a study of British Honduras. I remembered being fascinated by a country with so many aspects: rainforests, tropical islands, Mayans, pirates, the British, the old confederacy, the garifunga. They all stirred my curiosity.
     

     Years later, in 1984, I met a fellow who was on the way to Belize. When he mentioned its being the former British Honduras, I was transported immediately back to my class report for Miss Hockmeyer. In the years that followed, I made visits to San Pedro on Ambergris Caye, Belize whenever time and fortune permitted. Around 1998, I bought a nice two bedroom home there, on the Laguna de San Pedro.
      So in a way, I've been able to continue working on my 8th grade assignment, all the way into retirement! Funny, how much thought can become actualized.

a close-up of Bill's home on the Laguna de San Pedro...

and a long shot showing mangroves and the lagoon.

     I enjoy the friendship of many Belizians around the country. Doors seem to have opened to me in the most gratifying ways. Active membership with the San Pedro Lions; close friendships;  fly-fishing most evenings adjacent to my home; birdwatching from a kayak in the lagoon or the mangroves of San Pedro; driving about on my golf cart; and playing host to friends from the US are some of my loves.
 
     Once a month or so, I travel to the mainland of Belize and visit diverse destinations. There, too, I enjoy warm friendships with many Belizians. While my ties have not yet been broken in University City, I do feel a closeness and joy in this new harbor, that I wish was mine in our old.

 

Letters From Cuba

by Bill Thornton

part of Havana harbor

1.

     Dear Friends,
 
    I'm writing from Belize, back from my trip to Mexico and Cuba. My wonderful three days in Havana will be with me forever. The Cuban People are just lovely, sweet people. The government has eyes and ears everywhere, however. The people seem disenchanted. Sad.
      I arrived on Monday and found out that the country has its own currency, but US dollars are the preferred currency. The People get paid with Cuban dollars and hafta buy everything in US dollars. The conversion is 20 Cuban dollars to the US dollar. No matter how hard one works, ya just can't get "ahead" of the power curve.
      I met many Cubans during my visit. Everyone tells of their relations living in the US, and how they wish to go there.

     I stayed in the residence of a wonderful "Christian" family: John, Dulce, Ingrid and Emmanual. Ingrid is a 16 year old wanting to become an evangelist. Emmanual is a 8 year old boy. John is a Military Officer. Dulce is the wife. Nice, nice people.
      Tuesday morning, I heard some serious conversation in the living room. When I came out, I found a Cuban government official in the living room, giving the tenth degree to John and Dulce. Seems that the Government needs to give permission to those who visit, and that John and Dulce hadn't registered me as their guest. The Official wasn't interested that my visa had just been stamped the previous evening. A ticket was issued for $200 US dollars.
      John, who is a Colonel, told me "no problemo", he could deal with it. Dulce was visibly upset. I felt bad to bring such ill feeling into their home.
      It's difficult. Who reported that this gringo was visiting there? The cab driver? A neighbor? Who?  My story will continue later, inasmuch as there is a lot to report. Until (probably) tomorrow.

Take care,

  Bill

2.

     Hi Friends,

     Been spending lots of time walking the streets of Havana. Been to Old Town — similar to the French Quarter, on acid! Visited the Hotel Floridita and had several pictures taken of me with my coke, on Ernest Hemingway’s corner barstool.
      Everyone very friendly. They really appreciate an appropriate tip. Beautiful quartet playing the great Cuban music. Met them later that afternoon...and they recognized me. A small tip goes a long way, again.
      Street hustler showed me around the old quarter and encouraged me to invest in Cuba. Ha!! In one respect, I am a "poor" retiree. In the other respect, I am comparatively filthy rich gringo. Bought my way away from the hustler. It wasn't a bad experience, it just got tedious.

     The old US cars are fabulous. The street mechanics must be from MIT. Bailing wire and super glue, all the way.
      The buildings are beautiful, at least the restored ones. Otherwise, this place is in desperate need of paint and cement restoration.
      Spent two nights at the Nacional Hotel, the former casino of Myer Lanski. Hung around the night club district, just taking in the scene. Many working girls, just trying to make ends meet. Under the circumstances, an innocent vice.

"Vintage" American cars, endlessly repaired because they can't get new ones

     I witnessed an interesting scene at a traffic stop on a main intersection. There must have been ten policemen on each of the four corners. They all responded to beat the holy heck out of some "culprit". (I never found out what he did.) Afterwards, they dragged him to the paddy wagon, where they apologized for having to beat him up so bad. Guess they felt they needed to show their strength.

     The power of Fidel's regime is everywhere. The people, for the most part, are very friendly and outgoing, once they consider you harmless. I am, fortunately, completely harmless.
     The people work very hard to keep fed, although there are signs of great wealth among government officials. Must have been fifteen new black unmarked Mercedes Benz taxis waiting outside the Nacional Hotel. No occupants there that I could see in two nights.

     Havana has a lot of European influence, much influence from Canada, Germany and France — restaurants and the like. I saw an Alfa Romeo Dealership. Wish there was one in St Louis, for my '76 Spider.
 
     The trip reminded me of the durability of man. While circumstances might be poor, the old men can still enjoy playing dominoes under the street lights at 3AM.
     My apology for this disheveled letter...it is late, and I feel disheveled.

Take care,

Bill

Letter from Guatemala

by Bill Thornton

Bill in front of temple ruins at Tikal

     Dear Friends,

      I find myself in Livingston, Guatemala. It's at the intersection of the Rio Dulce (Sweet River) and the Carribean Sea. A very interesting town, split between Mayan and Garifunga. The Garifunga are black people who where dispersed by a volcanic explosion on the island of St Vincent centuries ago. Most speak English, Spanish and their own Garifunga language. The two peoples live at peace, but both keep to themselves.
      Visited the Seven Altars yesterday. Several hours' trek to a series of waterfalls emptying into the Carribean. Taking lots of pictures.

     This area is definately Rainforesty. It rained this morning from 4AM to 9AM. Seven inches, it measured. All the locals had to go out to bail, so their boats wouldn't sink.

     Have been staying at the Hotel La Casa Rosada. A beautiful place. Been catching up with my beef consumption. They serve a nice Filet Mignon Dinner for about $20, US. The beef doesn't even bite back, like it does in Belize.
     Been contemplating whether to go to the Big City of Puerto Burrios, then up the Rio Dulce to Lake Isabel. While I work on that one, I'll be thinking of ya all.

Take care,

Bill

* * * * *

Bill's lively, midnight-oil “conversation” often peppers our Yahoo discussion group.

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