Shaken but not Stirred

“How was your trip back from aMerica?” my friends all ask.
“Inconsequential except for the bus accident in Mexico.” I reply.

Bigness has accused me in the past of being a drama queen and making a big story out of a little thing. Well, he would say that as he’s usually the driver of the vehicle hurtling down the road with me as the paralyzed scared passenger most of the time. I find its best to take my glasses off and just look out the side window. It helps me to relaaaxxxxx if I can’t see what’s coming at me.
I travel up and down the Chetumal-Tulum corridor all the time. I am on that road on a bus no less than 6 times a year, without incident. I ride ADO, first class express busses which have a bathroom at the back. I like to sit at the front, behind the driver because in the back you can smell the bathroom, and in the front there’s more leg room. This trip I sat in the second row behind the driver.

Accidents are a numbers game, and my number was up. It was after dark and about 2 hours south of Tulum, the road is very narrow, barely 2 vehicles can pass each other, and no shoulder to speak of. I was jolted awake by the sound of screeching metal and breaking glass and the bus swerved around for a few seconds. Lots of screaming in Spanish going on, and the bus kept on going because there was no shoulder to pull off on. We were sideswiped by a double semi’s side mirrors. No one was hurt, just a lot of broken glass projected back from the windshield and the side windows in the front where I was sitting were shattered. What saved me from being cut was that the side curtain next to me was closed, and I had turned my hoodie sweatshirt around and the hood was over my face as I was trying to stay warm and to sleep. The driver was a little bit cut and pulled over a few miles down the road to assess the damage and call into the dispatch.

No announcements were made, the driver shook the glass off of himself, got back into the bus, but the video back on and drove on. I have no complaint about the driver, he was skilled and professional and certainly calmer than his passengers.

It reminded me to BUCKLE MY SEATBELT, a day late and a dollar short.

I would like to take this opportunity to caution traveler's coming on the bus at night between Cancun and Belize. It has nothing to do with the skill of the drivers of these bus lines, they are all amazing and professional. The road south of Tulum is under construction and in many places there is no shoulder, or they have sand and gravel piled up right next to the road. They say the road is in bad shape from hurricane damages from Dean. I think they are in the process of widening the road on each side and it is in the preliminary stages. There isn't a problem during the day, but at night these big rigs with double trailers run full bore blasting up and down like hogs. You will not catch me again traveling at night on this road until it is fixed up.

Chastisement

Cousin Alvi was out on Caye Caulker the other day complaining that I hadn’t updated my blog in so long he thought I was still in the U.S. When he rode by on the golf cart he thought he saw a ghost. He also chastised me for watering it down, as you all know I’ve let up on the hard copy gossip because Bigness was getting phone calls and complaints from people with no sense of humor at all. I take certain creative liberties in my stories, some of my characters are composites. This is my opinion and you can choose to agree or disagree with me, no one forces you to read this blog. Most of the people reading this blog do so for entertainment purposes only and do not take it as a CNN broadcast of current events on Caye Caulker. If you have close ties to Caye Caulker you may or may not be able to tell who I am writing about, and if you think I’m writing about you, then stop your bad behavior and I’ll stop writing about it.

More Fan Mail
Bigness wondered why Cousin Rage would turn his face away from him when he passed on the beach and thought that he’s becoming a “Sometimes Crazy” person as opposed to being a “My Friend Sometimes” person.

I hadn’t told him about the email I had received until then, because (Life is short) and I didn’t want to get his panties in a twist over something so juvenile and jr. high school behavior is not on my list of things to do these days.

But since he brought it up… what a perfect time to bring things to light and as we all know, timing is everything.

Cousin Rage informs me via email that he wants me to stop blogging about him, that I have my facts wrong and no one in the ENTIRE Alamina family likes me. And that he speaks for everyone and that not a one of them thinks I’m fit to carry the name.

Bigness laughed and laughed at this. (Now is the time for my daughters to close their eyes and ignore the next sentence) Then gave me a big smack on my behind for being a very very very naughty girl and we danced naked around the room to tango music. (O.K. daughters you can open your eyes now)

I didn’t reply to the email as I didn’t want to dignify the ranting with an answer. I also know the golden rule of the internet… “Don’t put anything into an email that you don’t want one million people to read” So, stop giving me your bad behavior to write about and I’ll stop writing about it.

Bad Mindedness:
Typical bad mindedness comes from jealousness of other’s accomplishments. Cousin Rage likes to complain to the village council about other people's tables on the beach saying they are infringing on Queensland, but neglects to let them know that he built his building 15 feet into Queensland, stealing beach intentionally. Should I tell them? Naw, its none of my business and my rule of thumb is don’t bother me with your sillyness and I won’t bother you. I try to not pay him any mind at all, after all there are starving American Tourists in Belize dying for a good cup of coffee and I am the only one who can save them.

Revisionist History:
What Cousin Rage fails to recognize is that any stories that I’m telling that happened prior to 2000, I’m just repeating like a parrot as it came straight from Bigness’s mouth to my ear. He’s objecting to revisionist history. But of course he would never dare to approach Bigness to his face as he’s a coward.

BTW, Cousin Rage, since I know you stalk me and read my blog (obviously), I’ve done a family poll and with the exception of one person who doesn’t even live in Belize, everyone else is on my side. So there.

I Promised Myself

I promised myself that when I was in aMerica with all those good DSL connections and easy access to technology I would update the blog regularly. Yea, right. I was lazy as ever chilling my brains. I avoided buying long pants by not going outside, glued to the TV watching reruns on A&E of Dog the Bounty Hunter (Dontcha luv him? And what about his wive's ginormeous boobs, aren't they amazing? A story in themselves) Several nights Adria and I were up past midnight glued to the TV, she had a hard time getting up for work the next day, it was reminiscent of high school days. And don't get me started on Rock of Love with Brett Michaels, I'm making myself sick thinking about all the trashy TV I consumed right along with Dunkin Donuts.
Leaving was bittersweet. 6 weeks in civilization was more than nice, but I needed to get back to Belize and clean up the usual dirt bomb that explodes in the store during all the construction. I hated leaving all of these grandbabies and let's not forget about the Cinnabon stall in the mall. k(keeping our priorities straight) May-the-seven-year-old was happy to get her bedroom back, Jelly Bean was glad I wasn't there bossing her around, but Malibu Mal Mal and Adria miss my company already, and I miss theirs. BTW UNbaby is loving school in aMerica and is all civilized wearing shoes and all now.

Show-N-Tell

I’ve set up a temporary studio in my oldest daughter’s sun room on the back of her house. The light is northern and very constant. With so much sunshine, I've ben able to log quite a few studio hours preparing new work for the gallery to start the season off. It’s 3:45 p.m. and I hear the front door to the house slam, clomp, clomp, clomp, books being deposited, refrigerator door opens and then closes, the TV plinks on and it’s the Disney Channel. The back door slams and May appears at the door to the sunroom giving a tour to another blonde blue eyed 7 year old.

May: That’s my Gramma
Me: (I look up and smile)
May: she lives in the jungle
May: Belize is an island and they have monkeys there
May: she lives with Grandpa Bigness on the beach, he’s not my real Grandpa but he’s my biggest
May: She’s a painter
May: She’s famous, right Grandma?
Me: I’m a legend in my own mind
May: her paper is silk… look (as she holds up an unpainted scrap and wraps it around her like a skirt)
May: that’s my tiger ears (and points at the headband on my head with the furry tiger ears sticking off the top)
May: my dad got it for me at the tiger’s game
May: Grandma why are you wearing my tiger ears?
Me: to keep my hair out of my eyes, is that o.k.?
May: sure
Around the table they circle, May showing and interpreting my paintings, the girl's eyes big as saucers.
May: That one’s called Maxi and the Motorbike. There’s Maxi, and here’s Midi and Mini carrying the drums.
Girl: How much does this one cost?
Me: $950
Girl: oh... I’ll tell my mom to come right over and buy it

The Perfect Roomate

I've come to realize that my perfect roomate is a 7 year old girl. That's the thing about being homeless in aMerica, you never know where you're going to crash. When I sold my home in aMerica in 2001 I didn't worry about where I was going to stay when I came to visit. And here I am bouncing from daughter's home to daughter's home, being homeless aint so bad is it? At my oldest daughter's house I share a room with May-the-seven-year-old. She and I have the same philosophy on life.

1. Neither of us like to pick our clothes up off the floor, much to her mother's chagrin.
2. Getting up for school (or work) sucks, but I do it anyway, because its not worth hearing Mom complain
3. Cartwheels in the livingroom are o.k. as long as I don't bump into the furniture, and Mom's not around
4. Sleeping on the livingroom floor in front of the TV is way better than the bed
5. A Slim Jim snack in the afternoon is just fine
6. Ballet is fine to watch, but not to do. Hip hop is much better.
7. My career as a rock star is just about to take off... if I could just meet Hanna Montana.
8. Hair brushing is optional
9. Boys are icky unless they are doing something useful like removing the dead bat from the sun room.
10. Mom says no Pepsi for breakfast, but she just doesn't know what's good for her.

Whodaknown?

With the exception of very agitated and agressive TSA agents in Miami who nearly shoved a wand up my whoseywhattsit, the trip back to aMerica was almost unremarkable, however long and uneventful.

I can blame it on the fact that I live in a cave and only watch MTV (The Hills), Channel 5 News in Belize, the Caribbean News Roundup from Barbados and Bravo TV, but somebody forgot to tell me about the No-liquids-allowed-on-flights because-you-might-light-someone-on-fire policy. And the people in Duty Free were liars also, btw. Chug-a-lug.

Anyheeww, I'm here in Michigan, unjetlagged by now, and having a great time chilling my brains. UNBaby is cold and walks around with a blankey around her shoulders. She can't wait to see snow, we've described it to as just like sand but very very cold. I'm like a bag lady going from daughter-to-daughter's house cooking Mexican Chicken soup. In the past week I've had KFC, Subway, Steak and Shake, McDonalds (2x), Wendy's and I can't button the top botton on my pants.

One last travel tip:
All conch shells must be with your baggage. No carry on blunt trauma weapons allowed.

An Experiment on Ebay

I'm trying something new. I'm selling a couple of paintings by Nelson Young, a local Caye Caulker artist, on Ebay. Click on the painting title below and it will take you right to the ebay page.

Slumber

Untitled Fishes

Taking a Vacation from my Vacation

The Last Days of Summer
Friends came for a little going away party and Supergirl took some photos I'll share with you. You can't help but feel nostalgic.

Supergirl, UNBaby and I are going to cool our brains in aMerica for a while. UNBaby is going back to civilization to start school. Quite a change from being a wild girl living on the beach to a being a city girl. I don't think she remembers what snow is. Supergirl and I are going to civilization to eat IHOP Fruit Crepes, and to see all those new fangled fancy cars they have in aMerica. So we packed the store up like a hurricane was heading for us. It was easier this time, practice makes perfect. This 6 weeks trip will refresh and rejuvinate us. Bigness told me not to come home unless I bring him a bucket of KFC Original Recipe. Awe... he's so romantic. He'll need some rejuvination when we get back because he's on a big remodelling project and roof replacement project. every year at this time he repaints everything and if there's anyting big and important that needs to be done with hammers and drills, he does it in September and October. Can I compare him to a pig in shit on this or will someone call him on his cell phone (again) and tell him that I'm calling him bad names on the internet. Anyhow, you get the picture. He's in his glory, there's lots of drywall stacked everywhere, piles of brick pavers and roofing. Cans of paint and mud paste stacked in rows like soldiers waiting for orders. And I'm so glad I'm going to miss out on all the "fun".

On Being A Bag Lady - A Cautionary Tale

I had a big throwing out party (with myself) today. I am an admitted pack rat. My theory is that mentally I'm very organized, so my environmnet doen't have to be. I appreciate organization and I try to surround myself with organized people, because lawdy, I don't need anyone else like me junking up the place. Today I threw away 5 garbage bags of old clothes and junk (some of it was good stuff but I did it anyway) My excuse has been that its so hard to get anything here that if something was slightly broken or had a little bit of coffee on it, I could fix it or dye it or remake it into something useful. Well, that just silly. I have so much stuff that's been hanging around taking up space. Supergirl promised me that if I threw away some of my old tiedye painting t-shirts that I've had since 1998 she would tell me where she hid my black and white lizard print stretch capri pants that I like to travel on airplanes with, because they are so comfy. But it turns out that she's a BIG LIAR. A BIG BIG LIAR AND PROUD OF IT!

Don't Do That Again

Its been 2-1/2 years since I've been back to aMerica, 2 years for Supergirl. I'm looking forward to using my new e-passport. You know the one where they implant the computer chip so they can track you. I'll let you know how that turns out. I'm not a glutton for punishment so this trip I'm NOT going to pass thru customs entering aMerica wearing a tiedye t-shirt, flip flops and a silly straw hat. Maybe it was the picture of the 5 leaf plant painted on the back (just kidding). They weren't buying it that I was just a starving artist living and working in Belize. That wasn't fun, let's NOT DO THAT again. I tried to pull strings telling them that my parents both voted for George Bush, but they didn't care and wanted to examine EVERYTHING. I knew I was in trouble when the agent put on latex gloves...

Deserted Island

We tired of our own company, so Supergirl, UNBaby and I headed back to Caye Caulker on Friday morning. We expected to see lots of locals taking the plywood off their windows and resuming life as normal, and instead we met an island that looked like a hydrogen bomb had gone off. Lots of empty buildings and no people. It looked like everyone else had the same idea and didn't rush right back either.

Yesterday was a little better, plywood coming down here and there, more foot traffic and a few tourists showed up. A boatload of of tourists coming in was big news on the conch shell telelgraph making its way from the peir down to the split. Today more people, and now there's a local volleyball competition going on at the beach next to the police station to get the juices flowing again. The base from the boom box DJ on the beach is deep reassuring noise that we're gaining speed and not teetering to fall.

I'm O.K., You're O.K. but Nicaragua isn't o.k.

The second time in two weeks that we evacuated ran nearly the same only quicker than the first time. Practice makes perfect. I'm glad the government and The Weather Channel errors on the side of caution and we won't have the likes of Hurricane Keith (Sept/Oct 2000) sneaking up on us again.

For another point of view south of us in Honduras, check out La Gringa's Blogicito.

I feel sorry for the poor people of Nicaragua. Its such a poor country, much poorer than Belize. Its been 2-1/2 weeks since Hurricane Dean and the reconstruction effort by the Belize Government and other disaster agencies in Corozal is well on its way. At least that's what I'm hearing on local news, as I've not been up there to see it myself.

After Felix we decided to not hurry back but to give ourselves a couple of days down time, mental relaxation. Maybe we'll go back to work tomorrow, maybe we won't. Let's see how the weather fares. UNBaby has a cold and fever, Supergirl is crocheting a baby blanket for a friend due in a couple of weeks, and I'm using my time wisely of course, re-reading all the back issues of The New Yorker that MB has sent over the years. No one is on the Caye right now, the whole island emptied out again and this time of the year it's mauger season (translates into "hungry") so it will be days and days before we get any new tourists.