Three Days in Mexico

Oops! I never did write about Chetumal, did I? I turned a year older there and didn’t feel a day over 20. Even the rain didn’t put a damper (pun intended) on our fun. The only problem was we didn’t stop at customs. We meant to but we couldn’t find the immigration office and everyone we asked pointed in a different direction. Finally, soaked and frustrated, we said “the heck with it” and just drove on.
We ate, we swam, we drank and we shopped ‘til we were too tired for anything else. Fortunately the evening activity was not too strenuous. Television! You might not know this, but if you want to watch television in the jungle you have to buy and install a big ol’ satellite dish which I do not have. So I got my TV. fix for a couple of evenings while sipping on cerveza.
Mexico makes the best beer in the world. It’s called Modelo Especial and I decided I wanted to take some back with me. I bought a six pack and Ellen picked up a bottle of Baileys and headed off to the border and back to Belize.
“Where is your visitor pass?” asked the stern looking official at the immigration booth. In our flustered, eye batting innocence we explained about the trip across. The official was neither flattered nor amused. We were told it would cost hundreds of pesos as a fine. We pooled out pesos and come up with an amount a little short of what was asked for. I guess they were tired of us so they accepted it and let us go back home.
We hadn’t bought much besides the clothes we were wearing so we declared everything we had at the Belize customs desk knowing it wouldn’t be over the amount allowed.
“You are Belizean residents,” the officer said. “You cannot bring beer and alcohol into the country.”
“Why”, I asked. “Is it dangerous?”
This did not get the smile I was hoping for so we professed we did not know this or we certainly would not have bought it and then been so honest about declaring it etc. etc…
They decided we weren’t going to open a liquor store and ruin the Belizean economy and let us keep it.
I repacked my small suitcase quickly and hurried out to the car with half the contents spilling out the unzip-able container. Ellen brought the car around and we both breathed a big sigh of relief!

Catch up!

I haven’t writing anything for a while so I’m going to try and catch up on a few things today. My excuse is… I don’t really have an excuse but this picture might give you a clue as to what I’ve been up to in my spare time. Hey, can I help it if I’m lured to the call of the hammock? I think not.
Gertie is still sitting on her egg and Beatrice is now Bernie. Yes, he’s turned out to be a rooster. So I have one hen not laying eggs and two roosters. Big surprise, Randy and Bernie do not get along! They do a little chicken dance, then face off and fly up and down about 5 feet in air. Fortunately there have been no cock fights but one of them is going to have to go. Miguel has taken a liking to Ralph and has offered to trade a hen for him. “Amen” I say, Ralph is the one who starts crowing at 4:30 in the morning and doesn’t stop until about 8:00. I’ve made Miguel promise not to make tamales out of him. Am I a great egg farmer or what? Don’t answer that, okay.
Hobo is getting bigger every time I see him. I finally got him to run along side of me. Of course I gave him a big ripe mommy apple for this amazing feat and he gave me a big orange kiss after eating it. Yuck, time for a bath for both of us!

Gertie sits on one egg

Gertie has been laying an egg every day now since she started and I’ve been enjoying them fried, scrambled and hard boiled. Miguel told me that I should leave one in the nest so that she didn’t decide to go into the bush to lay her eggs. Apparently a chicken will not keep laying in the same place if all her eggs disappear. Makes sense to me. I had been taking them out of the nest each day so I figured I’d better put one back. I got one out of the fridge and marked it with a felt pen so I’d know I was getting the fresh one and put it back in.
Okay, so now Gertie has laid about 20 eggs since she started and has two left in her nest. She has decided that it’s time to hatch them. Oh boy… I wasn’t counting on that! I looked up all my notes (they’re filed under chicken shit) and found that if you put ice cubes into the clutch, the hen will stop sitting on them. I placed a dozen cubes in the nest while Gertie was out to get a drink of water. She came back and turned them all along with her eggs and sat on them. I tried again the next day with the same result. Well this is the tropics and ice doesn’t last too long so what did I expect? I gave up. Now she’s going to spend three weeks sitting on one egg that may or may not hatch since the one from the fridge will definitely not. Tune in at the end of the month to find out if Gertie becomes a mom!

Our mangos are bigger than yours are!

I found this one in the market today and just had to compare it to a banana to show you how big it is. It’s not ripe yet, but my mouth is watering already.

Hobo - The best little horse in Belize

I was checking out my previously blogs and I see that I haven’t mentioned Hobo yet. Hobo is an almost 2 year old horse and is quite possibly the smartest horse in the world. He can’t do much except eat but I know he has great potential and will one day be a champion! He cost me $25.00 Belize which is about $12.50 U.S. and I guess he’s not the prettiest colt but we all know about how swans start out so I’m sure he’ll grow into his beauty. Being a Belizean horse, his favourite treats are Mommy apples, corn husks and oranges. Yes, oranges! No one was more surprised than I was when he stopped in the orchard to devour an orange; skin, pits and all! I guess I don’t have to worry about him getting enough vitamin C, or is it D? What-Ever… I will keep you posted as Hobo learns all the horsy things he needs to know to become the champ.

Tarantulas – The frequent visitor

These poor guys always get a bad rap. Even down here I hear people say “
Watch out for them, their bite is deadly.” “They bite your horse’s feet and leave poison,” or “they’ll jump up on your face like the thing in Alien.” The actual people who do know something about this particular species disagree with all of the above. Especially about the jumping on your face cause I just made that up. In reality (although I don’t know this first-hand either) their bite is comparable to a bee sting and I do know first-hand that they will run away if you get close to them. I’ve seen the ‘brave at heart’ pick them up and let them walk all over them. They tell me if you don’t hurt them they won’t bite and are not the least bit aggressive. I’ll take their word on that. I’m also very glad because I found a baby hiding in my laundry the other day. It puts a whole new slant on ‘ants in your pants.’ They are very pretty for a big hairy spider, and the red body at the back seems to be exclusive to Belizean tarantulas.
Randy is driving me crazy with his crowing! He starts at 4:30 in the morning and won’t stop until I feed him. I’m thinking tamales!

Mr. Peanut Head

Yesterday, during one of my daily walks through the jungle park I ran into this fellow. Actually there were three of them but they all looked exactly alike so I only posted one picture. They’re about five inches long and the eyes appear to be on the side of its neck. Oh yeah, I almost forgot… they walk sideways. The function of the big peanut shaped head is anybody’s guess. I was tempted to break it open to see if there were nuts inside but I hate to hurt anything bigger than a mosquito (I even sweep out spiders and roaches). I know as much about insects as I do about frogs, so if anyone can identify this fellow please use the comment button below and let me know what it’s called so I can find out more about it.
It’s not really that unusual to find odd looking creatures around here. I’ve actually got quite a collection (images, not the actual bodies) if anyone is interested in seeing more. Chances are I’ll post more even without requests.
Gertie is laying an egg every day now and the parade in and out of the coop continues. I guess chickens get board and need a change from searching for insects to eat but “Come on guys, give the poor girl a break!”
I’m off on a road trip to Mexico for a couple of days. I’m sure I’ll have something exciting to write when I get back.
Later…

A lesson on frogs

In this post I’m going to tell you everything I know about frogs. Obviously it will be a short post. You know those colourful frogs you see in National Geographic taken in the sub-tropical places in Central and South America that are usually poisonous? Well you hardly ever see them. The frogs you’ll find in abundance during the rainy season are small, light brown and have sticky feet so that they can climb up windows and walls. They have shifty eyes and big mouths and you hardly ever see them during the day. You don’t see them at night either unless you go looking for them with a big flashlight. But you can hear them! Boy oh boy can you hear them. Thousands, maybe millions all at once, and they don’t ‘ribbett’ or ‘croak’. It’s more like a loud, annoying ‘pruck, pruck, pruuuuck.’ Anyway, I guess they’re kind of cute but sometimes I lay awake at night imagining the house surrounded by millions of frogs, all prucking and getting closer and closer. Then I start to giggle!
Okay, lesson over. Bye for now.

It never rains in Belize…

But like the song about California, “it pours!” After 2 days and nights of torrential downpours the sun came out on a jungle wonderland. The front lawn turned into a fairytale land complete with a meandering creek. All that was missing were the elves and trolls. The sun glistened on green grass and water transforming the place from beautiful to spectacular! Too much rain also tends to bring down trees. I guess their roots get so soggy they can’t hold on any more. Anyhow, the picture is more interesting than my writing today so I’m going to shut up now, except for this one more chicken thing.
Gertie laid her first egg today! What a production it was. She’d go in the coop to the nest and Randy would follow, then Beatrice would follow him in. Gertie would come out and the others would follow her. In she’d go again with Randy and Bea (literally) on her tail. In and out, in and out… This happened about 7 times and I guess Gertie couldn’t wait any more and gave up on any ideas of privacy. She laid one tiny egg, then she was back to foraging with the others. Yea, breakfast!

‘Tis the Season

No, it’s not Christmas yet. I’m talking about avocados. The rest of the year everybody always complains that there are no avocados, but when they’re here, we can’t eat them fast enough to keep up. There are three trees by the house and two of them drop about a half dozen every day. So I’m eating avocado solo, avocado sandwiches, guacamole, avocado potato salad and avocado soup. “Avocado soup,” you say, “yuck…” Who wants to eat green soup besides maybe Dr. Zeus’s Cat in the Hat? Well believe or not, it’s pretty darn tasty even if it doesn’t look all that great. The best part is, its soooo easy to make and that’s the only kind of recipe I’ll do. Just take your favourite chicken soup mix or can – with or without noodles – and heat it up. Add two or more ripe, mashed avocados (leave out the skin and pit), a little butter or margarine, about a half cup of milk, a can of corn, then whatever spices you like. I use some cilantro too cause it grows like a weed on the lawn. There’s also some spinach in mine but it tends to get a little bitter when you re-heat. Heat it up until just before it boils, and it’s ready to eat. Yummy! Downside is that now I have to put away and freeze the leftovers and do the dishes. The maid took my Ferrari (okay, you guessed it, - no maid, no Ferrari).

I’m sure you’ve heard enough about chickens from me, but actually I’m just getting started. I just want to say that Beatrice’s feathers are growing back and she no longer looks like Moe of the Three Stooges. She now sports sideburns and looks a little like Elvis Presley. She also got a rooster tail and I’m beginning to wonder if she’s a hen at all! I’ll let you know if she starts crowing, or lays an egg. Until then, the jury is out. Comments anyone?

Let me introduce the chickens

Randy, Gertie and Beatrice seem to be adapting well to life in the jungle. Bea is the smallest and the other two pick on her a bit, but nothing really nasty. I haven't wanted to eat chicken since I got them. Chickens make good pets and they’re not much trouble at all. I let them out of their house in the morning and spread some grain or rice on the ground. They eat it, and then forage for bugs the rest of the day. As soon as it starts to get dark, they go back in their house and I close the door behind them so they don't get eaten by the wildlife that come out at night. The cats stalk them, but they're about the same size so I don't worry. They like to sit in the hibiscus trees (I guess wandering around looking for bugs is tiring work). They also seem quite partial to dog food. They're too young to lay eggs yet, but I don’t think it will be long before Gertie starts popping some out. I’ve found out now that I don’t need a rooster for eggs. I only need a male if I want to have little chicks running around. Hmmmmm. I’m sure Randy would make for good eating, and he sure is loud and persistent with the “errrr er er er ererrrr’s” in the morning. Really early in the morning – like 4:30! But of course I don’t have the heart for that now. He’s already part of the family. I think you can tell which one is Randy. He’s missing a lot of feathers on his neck, but I’m told they’ll grow back. Gertie’s the pretty white one with attitude and Beatrice is the ‘hard to see’ brown one with the Moe hair cut.
Gotta go... Felix is coming!!!

Economically marginalized! What the #$@% does that mean?

“As ever, the worst affected people in Belize are those who were already economically marginalized before the storm hit.”

Believe it or not this sentence was written in a press release just after hurricane Dean hit the northern part of Belize. I looked up marginalized in my thesaurus and it wasn’t there, so I tried ‘marginal’ and got trivial, unimportant, insignificant, minor, or secondary. I’m guessing, (because I try to see the best in people), that this person must have been trying for political correctness in describing the poor people of Belize. But – what the hell – why didn’t she just say poor people? Besides, being poor is not an insult to the poor, it’s an insult to the government who does not provide opportunity for prosperity to those who truly would put it to use. Like incentives for small business, tax breaks, education for better methods of farming etc. I won’t go into any more about politics, (for now) even though there is much more to be said. There, I’ve had my rant for the day.

I’m back home now and all is well. The cats are fine and all three chickens are accounted for. The runaway decided to come back on her own. Yeah! My seven bucks didn’t go down some bush-dog’s gullet after all. They have names now, and have become a part of my strange family and therefore cannot be eaten. The rooster is Randy, the white hen is Gertie, after a favorite aunt, and the little brown one is Beatrice.

Hurricane Dean comes calling…

I’m a little behind on the blog due to a fellow named Dean. Fortunately, I live south of where the hurricane did its damage, but on Monday morning no one was sure of where it might go. The area was being evacuated due to the impending winds potentially bringing down trees. In case you haven’t guessed, there are a lot of trees in the jungle. There was also a chance of flooding so it was time to batten down, pack up, leave the cats a mountain of food and head out towards the western border. The chickens would have to fend for themselves.

My car refused to start.

I walked three miles to the jungle lodge where my friend worked and saw that everyone was preparing to get out of there too. Ellen lent me her car and I headed back to the house to finish getting things out of harms way.

I packed up anything breakable and stowed them in the cupboards, bagged pictures, books and magazines, then stuffed anything loose under the beds.

It was starting to blow pretty good now, and the rain reminded me of an autumn drizzle in Canada.

After packing a bag, I coaxed the dog into the car and drove back to the lodge. Ellen decided the best place to go would be San Ignacio where her niece lived, so off we went into the wild rainy west!

The weather in San Ignacio didn’t even hint at a hurricane going one close by. It was raining a little, but that was it.

I had a friend who lived very close to Ellen’s niece, so I borrowed Ellen’s car again and drove over to see her. She had company too. Relatives from Belize City had come down to shelter with her. Cindy wasn’t the least bit worried about the weather, she figured God would sort all that out. She was very upset about her parrot Pepper though. Apparently he was frightened by the visitors and flew out the window to a neighbor’s tree across the street. She could hear him squawking but he wouldn’t come home. There wasn’t much I could do to help so I went back and watched some television.

Now T.V. is a big deal for me since I don’t get to watch it in the jungle. We all huddled around and watched CNN to see what Dean was up to. At that point he was battering Corozal in the north of Belize and Chetumal in Mexico and heading across the bay towards Veracruiz. It’s seems we’re safe and Dean is losing steam.

Everybody needs Chickens

I’m probably the least self-sufficient person I know. I don’t cook or bake, have a garden or make my own clothes. So naturally I figured it was time to get some chickens and produce my own eggs. Not actually lay them myself of course. I’ll let the hens do that.

I asked my friend Miguel where to get them and he told me about Miss Donita’s place in a little village not far from me. Off I went with a big Rubbermaid tub to find the perfect pollos.

It turns out Miss Donita does not speak a word of English and since my Espanol is no muy bien a lot of hand gestures and repetitions went on during the negotiations. – A hint on speaking a language that you do not well is: “speaking the wrong words louder does not amplify comprehension.” I learned this firsthand.

The problem was solved when her six year old grandson came to the rescue. Not that he could understand my Spanish any better that Miss Donita but he could figure out what I was asking when I spoke English.

I told him I wanted a rooster and two hens so he disappeared for a while and came back holding a ‘scrawny looking very young up-side-down scared out of its little brain’ bird by the legs.

“How much,” I asked? (“Como mucho?” does not translate well.)

After the translations and a lot of ‘Greek to me,’ I was told 15 dollars. Now this seems a little excessive considering I can buy a whole chicken dinner in town for 5 dollars!

Pointed out next were a white & brown hen about 4 months old and another dark brown bird that looked barely over the chick fluff stage.

“How much,” I asked? (My originality knows no bounds.)

More translating and five minutes of gibbering back and forth brought a sum of 12 dollars for the white one and 7 dollars for the little hen for a grand total of… well, you do the math. I would have tried to barter, but I’m not one of the most patient people in the world, so I just paid the lady.

Their legs were tied (the chicken’s legs that is) and the three of them were plunked unceremoniously into the Rubbermaid container in my trunk for transport back to my place.

Upon opening the trunk back home, I found the Houdini Chicks had all freed themselves from their bonds. One by one they hopped out of the tub, onto the ground and headed for the bush!

I lunged like a linebacker and managed to grab the white one and put her in the coop, (an old dog house reinforced with a chicken wire fenced yard.) Miguel caught the rooster but the little one was headed for parts unknown!

After 3 hours of beating the bush for this 7 dollar chicken, the search was called off and I decided to accept my losses. Poor baby, I don’t think she’ll last the night out there when the predators come out to hunt.

Lara Croft to the Rescue

Thanks for coming back to check on my survival status. I did survive the ants. That last bit about the attack was a little exaggerated, but I swear the rest is absolutely true, including the six bites on my foot, now swollen up like a balloon and itching to drive me crazy.

And the excitement continues…

I live with three cats along with various other pets and jungle life. Diablo is the smallest of them and black as a New York alley. As felines often do, he caught a little bird and decided to bring it into the house to torture and play with before killing it.

I could hear the bird squeaking for mercy and there was no way I was going to let that bird die. I chased them out from under the dining room table and into the bedroom. Diablo dove under the bed. Down on my hands and knees, I pushed the rug towards them until they ran out to the living room.

Finally, he let the poor little bird go and I got it outside. Before I could shut the door, the terrified little bird flew back into the house!

‘The Rock’, a black & white tabby pounced with Diablo close at his heels. I was faster. I grabbed both cats by the scruff of their necks and threw them out the door closing it behind them. “Whew! Finally it’s safe”, I thought, and went to find the bird to let it out.

Cat number three, Cleopatra (who ended up being a boy but is stilled called Cleo) was stalking it! Fortunately for the baby bird, he’s a pretty old guy and slow as molasses so I got to it first. I picked up bird and put it and its poor over-beating little heart into the chicken coop (no chickens yet and the two foot long iguana that the mechanic found at the side of the house and put in there had escaped).

I checked on it a little later and it was gone. So, me jungle girl, Lara Croft, tomb raider and rescuer of winged creatures saved the day.

Okay, that's not really exciting, but it got me pumped!

The Horror!

I just finished my breakfast and found some old bananas that had been in the fridge too long. As I opened the screen door to toss them out I looked down… And screamed out loud like a girl! (Well I am a girl so I guess that’s okay.)

It was a house invasion! Ants, millions and millions of ants! I ran for the bug spray, and then remembered I’d used the last of it on the nasty looking spider from hell yesterday. Panicking, I grabbed a can of roach killer powder and spread it on the ants coming in through the door. Grabbing a broom, I furiously swept them back out the door but that didn’t work worth a darn, they just kept on coming. I ran back into the kitchen. They were creeping through the windows, climbing up the screens, crawling all over the walls devouring everything in their path.

In the dining room they were almost to the ceiling, crawling in swarms toward the living room. I ran into the bedroom and there they were, marching across the walls.

I’m thinking, “These are no army ants. There’s no discipline here. They’re not walking in nice lines. They’re not even going in the same direction. In fact they bump into each other as if they were blind, or maybe zombie ants right out of a Stephen King novel.

“Boots I cried,” and opened the front door to go to my car for boots. Uh oh, I can’t go that way. Ants have taken over the porch. I slammed the door shut and locked it – great idea, that’ll keep em out… duh. Plan B. I shook out my sandals, put them on and went out the back door where it seems the ants have decided they don’t like the roach killer after all.

Boots donned, and back in the dining room watching their progress I tried to think out a plan of attack. The swarm seemed to be thinning out. They’ve stopped coming in the windows and are done in the kitchen. Now they’re all in the living room.

Ah ha, I now have a plan! I’ll do nothing. I’ll just wait and hope they don’t decide to take up house-keeping. Great plan, I sure hope it works.

Wait! They’ve stopped! They’re staring at me. They’re moving down to the floor, coming towards me… Aaaaaaah!!!

Hello from the Belize Jungle!

This blog is new. I'll be writing about all the fun I'm having living in the jungle. I can't wait to get started. Here's a picture to start off with. These babies where hatched outside my window!

Later....

Belize Jungle Girl