Illustration Friday - Garden - March 14

Red hibiscus flower from my friend's garden, hand-painted silk 24" x 24"

Love in the Afternoon

Caye Chapel, what a lovely place. Located just minutes south of Caye Caulker, you pass it right before you reach Caye Caulker when you arrive via water taxi from Belize City. It always amuses me when the water taxi stops there to drop off workers, and the tourists say in awe and wonder... "Is this Caye Caulker??? WOOOWWWW!!! I didn't know Caye Caulker had a golf course. This looks way better than in the guide books."

Sometimes I quietly tell the person next to me that is it "Ahem... not Caye Caulker, its a private island. $1000 bucks a night here..." But most of the time I keep quiet and count one-onethousand, two-onethousand, three-onethousand, and usually by four-onethousand, the gushing has stilled because they have read the sign that says "Private Island" and have seen the security guards.

It is self contained with its own power plant, water plant, a golf course, club house, swimming pool, bar, restaurant, little mansions on the east side and casitas on the west side, plus a deep water marina for you to put your yacht in. Caye Caulker - I WISH!

(The young Belizean man in the foreground was an amazing and accomplished saxaphone player. For someone so young, he knew all the old sexy, slowdance, kiss me on the neck and hug me up songs. I was IMPRESSED)

I was surprised and pleased when I got the request for information on wedding photography. So I quickly sent them the link to my flickr photography site which I recently upgraded to a Pro account. If this all sounds like the lead in to a shameless infomercial, it IS. I would like to do more wedding photography.
So, I put on my "good clothes" and tried to not get dirty. It was difficult though, because the weather had turned what we like to call "cold" which means temperatures under 75 degrees F, and hard breeze from the west, so the water taxi dropping me off had to go on the east side of the island. On arrival, I literally slung my equipment UP onto the peir and crawled out of the boat as Harrison grabbed me and pulled me steady.

Those embarrassing moments are best met with humour, so I turned around and gave a curtsey and announced "Well that was fun" to the departing water taxi. I got a little bit of applause and cheers, plus some open mouth stares. Alway remember the rule your mother told you about wearing clean underwear, you never can tell who will be looking. I brushed myself off and checked for bird poop and walked to the golf cart and cold bottle of water waiting for me.

So my first wedding shoot there went pretty well, even though the photographer was more nervous than the bride, as usual. I've learned to accept it, I think it gives me my edge, which with art we all need our edge. The couple and their friends were so nice, and the staff at Caye Chapel, helpful and attentive.

I spent my conscious thoughts on trying not to sweat or hyperventilate, the shooting was easy, the conditions perfect. The weather gave us a break for a while. It was cool enough that the groom was able to wear his Scottish kilt and whole getup including daggar in his woolen socks and real brogue shoes. The bride was barefoot, of course.

Less work for me, I was thinking, as I did not have to scour the beach looking for stray trash that might interfere with the photos, or have to be airbrushed out later, the beaches are raked clean from dawn each day. I also didn't have to shoo any dogs out of the pictures, or quietly shoosh local children, but that is the charm of Caye Caulker. My thoughts strayed to the wedding months back where UNBaby (in her blue bathing suit) held the lace train still from the breeze, for a bride who was wearing a vintage 1970s dress from her mother in law while I photographed them sitting on the little rough bench in front of Tia Ilna's house. And now UNBaby is in school in aMerica, wearing shoes every day.

We put the FUN in the word FUNKY. The dogs, the drunks, bicycles, the kids, the rastas, the seagrass, the split, that is WHO WE ARE.

The Devil is in the Details

I always miss out on all the fun. Miss Barbara informs me the new Prime Minister for Belize, the Honourable Dean Barrow was in the store for a few moments after giving his speech taking a turn about town, getting to know Caye Caulker. I think I’m safe in saying that we hadn't seen hardly any major politicians on Isla Carinosa, until election time. Years pass and if we’re lucky the government ignores us.

“What would you do if the Dean Barrow wants to stay in the Beach House?” I asked Bigness.

“Charge him double” he answered, a fomer hardback PUP supporter, (now claiming to be "None of them P's) and continued to grumble about government this and government that.

“Hey, you don’t understand government interference until you’ve lived in the U.S.” I try and explain to him the chokehold that taxes have on the American people. But he doesn’t want to listen. He longs for the old days when Caye Caulker was just a village of 100, with picados between the houses, no roads, no electricity or tourists, no engines on boats. Just sailboats and lobsterfishing. And poverty. The good ole bad ole days. The oldtimers are leaving, selling up, leasing out their property and moving inland to the Belmopan area.

A rare site, a helicopter buzzes up and down the island a couple of time around 10 a.m.
“Is that the BDF?” I ask Bigness
“Does the BDF have a helicopter?” Bigness answers a question with a question.

I figured the Prime Minister would stop by to say Hi. The gallery is not easy to miss, centrally located between the beach and the street, just over from the central park and basketball court, next to the police station and right next to the most photographed sign on Caye Caulker “Drugs are Illegal in Belize”

The afternoon that the Honourable Dean Barrow, Prime Minister for Belize, came to Caye Caulker, I was fighting my way out of the village to get to a wedding to photograph the Costarican/Ecuadorian Latina (gorgeous) bride.

As I was leaving, he was arriving and the village was in lockdown, all the police serious, dressed up in their best uniforms sharply creased, nobody running jokes.

“Nobody to pass tru.” the police lady said
“But I’m your neighbor” I reminded her as she took a second hard look at me, gave a little laugh of recognition, and motioned me to pass.

I have never seen so much traffic on Caye Caulker. Bicycles, golf carts, gawkers and walkers.

It looked like San Pedro.

As I headed out of town I focused my attention on what would be the best way to get to this remote location south and west of the airstrip, off the grid. Driving, biking or walking the orchid trail which snakes around the southern point of Caye Caulker is like an episode of survivor. There is no way the motorcycle would make it over the rickety bridge through a particularly swampy area. I couldn’t walk it with a 50 lb backpack of photographic equipment and laptop. Riding down the airstrip is out of question, at least for me, until after dark when no planes land. So the only solution for me and the motorbike was to cut through the Puest del Sol area and Pelican Point subdivision and hope that there would be someone there to help me heist the bike onto the less rickety bridge to cross. Step careful, pay attention, don’t look down, I told myself. Don’t be nervous. Midbridge I remembered lovingly the Pelican waterproof camera case I lusted over on Amazon.com. Calm yourself. Did I remember to take my pill? Look at those toes, girl you need a pedicure. Eyes back to the front, keep moving that motorcycle. Focus on getting there.

I defied death once again.

I was only 15 minutes late even with waiting for help to cross, and taking Island Time into consideration, that’s not bad. It was o.k. since the bride had a clay mask on her face and the hairdresser was still doing some serious work to her nearly waist length hair. The bride was trying her best to adjust to Island Time, and to remember the sign that said “Go Slow”

You see, if you go slow, you don’t sweat so much.

The guests arrived by boat, and next time, I’ll consider doing that too. I’m not into extreme sports. I would come in a row boat.

The wedding was at the Yoga Center, located off the grid in the quietest most serene part of southern Caye Caulker. My friend Sallytheyogateacher (hereafter referred to as Sally) and Sallyshusbandjohn (hereafter referred to as John) started this project several years ago. And now they are living the dream. Built bit by bit on frequent trips to Caye Caulker over the years, the center opened for its first season last year. Its so quiet, all you can hear is the breeze.

The wedding was a first for them (family wedding, good to practice on) and I can see how this facility could become an amazing conference center, that is, if they can stand the interference in their lives. Tough call. They now spend winters on Caye Caulker and Spring/Summer/Fall in Maine. Having the best of both worlds didn’t come cheap, fast or easy. They thought out this project way before the first shovel hit the sand. How do you live off the grid with solar power, generator, rain water cisterns, and not pollute the environment? They are doing it, living simply, creating the least amount of garbage as possible, yet still having some creature comforts.

I left late, after the cake was cut, the bouquet and garter thrown. My job was done They partyied on until late, the DJ thump thump thumpin, booties shakin their bon bon. I picked my way down the trail to the airstrip and then let’er rip. I got up to 30 mph on the way home.

So, next time you’re here between the months of January and May, check them out. If walking or biking, take the beach path south until it looks like it ends, then turn right onto the orchid trail. Make sure you bring water and slather on the bug repellant. With walking over the rough spots and riding slowly the rest, it should take you about 20-30 minutes from the village. Or you can take my route through the Puesta Del Sol area by going down Back Back Street until you get to the lane just before the airstrip. Take it right and just keep bearing left until you see the barge, the bridge and the gas pumps for boats. The bridge has a gate at each end, and there’s usually an attendant to help you. If not, make sure you close the gates after crossing. After crossing you’ll see the trail head ahead of you. Cross the airstrip (look both ways for landing planes) and look to your right. Just head down it and you’ll see it. If not, at least you’re in the neighborhood and can do a shout out. They are the only John and Sallytheyogateacher on Caye Caulker.

Photo Friday - Art - February 22

My studio, where all the magic happens. Dig the authentic Cool Whip container. We've got lotsa those.

Check out more Photo Friday entries.

Moonlight on the Water, Caye Caulker, Belize

The new camera body arrived with the next bride. After breaking the shutter on the camera I have been using for the last 2 years, I rushed to order a new camera body from Amazon, first consulting with my BFF Mr. Wizard to make sure it was going to fit my lenses, etc. etc, (eyes rolling back into my head, and I'm slipping into a coma from all the technospeak that went on) Long distance mistakes cost you the most. Ordering the wrong size, wrong model, things not fitting, things not working, all the pitfalls of ordering online, multipy by 10, when you are not in aMerica and not able to return anything.

As luck would have it, everything fit, everything arrived to the coming bride, with a day to spare, no hitches or glitches and I'm back in biz. Wiser.

I purchased the Canon 40D 10.1 megapixel and all my Canon and Sigma lenses fit and work. So, now its practice, practice, practice. Last night's eclipse shots didn't turn out so well even using a tripod stand, the breeze was blowing so strong that it was buffeting the camera and shaking it. But the full moon shots have a mysterious eerie look that I like, and of course, the last moonlight shot was enhanced in Photoshop. Either that, or some aliens were landing on the cruise ship gliding by just beyond the reef and I just happened to capture the event. Your choice. I like the alien story better its more dramatical.

You Never Know Who You Will Meet

The package arrived just in time. I had been relegated to reading last chapter first back-to-front of the books we had left, just to make them interesting. All the good reads had been read, sold and traded away and I saw nothing interesting coming through the door. I check my post office box every couple of weeks, whenever I remember, so when I saw the notice of a parcel it meant one thing. The package of previously read New Yorkers had arrived, fresh from MBs coffee table. No duty on used books, it is supposed to be, but sometimes the government gets greedy and charges duty on postage. A tax on a tax. No duty on this package, I got off Scotch free, like the tape, clear and sticky. Raschell, the new postmistress, smiling as always, was happy to give me the package and to announce no duty due. I can’t believe how grown up she is now, all behaving like a lady. I remember when she was in the competition for Miss Lobsterfest, the beauty pageant which kicks off the season. I rooted for her, and she should have won, but you know how things go on a small Spanish island.

I wanted to rip open the package right there and lay down in the warm sand to read, but I didn’t. Instead, I put it in the bright blue bubble carrier on the back of the motorscooter and pretended I was out getting my exercise as I rode back to the house on the beach. Good literature is a bargainable commodity here and I savor each issue, keeping a small stash of them here and there, strategic spots hidden in the house. Bigness has learned the hard way about what happens when he disposes of my shredded poured over literature. I only bringing into the store what I can “afford” to lose. I tear through the fiction, then read the book and art reviews before reading any non-political story. Sorry, John McCain, I skip right over you. I’ve come to realize that most art in New York looks like vomit on canvas reflecting the feelings of aMerica. You can see these things from afar. I read the sardonic descriptions and wonder, who would want to look at that? When Bigness sees the package from MB, he knows the Do Not Disturb sign is hanging from my brain.

Miss Barbara brings in her old Vanity Fair subscription magazines, months old but fresh to me. For she has figured out how to order these things from abroad, a 14 year veteran of exile. Between coffee customers, Shirls and I pour over the pages of fashion, accessories and perfume ads, scratch and sniff, and marvel at dresses for $1000 that look like torn garbage bags and packing tape. Maybe next year fringe on the bottom of your terry cloth Capri pants will be the rage and I’ll have been ahead of my time once again. Michael Kors, don’t copy me, you hear?

I ask advice from Shirls on how I should wear my hair at an upcoming art show in aMerica. She advises to leave it as it is, just brush it straight. I want braids down my back with shells sewn into the ends. I say this to provoke her. She rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth, and I say Don’t you like the White Girl thinks she’s black look? She reminds me to please touch up those roots and I raise my hand self consciously to my hairline. She chuckles and its payment for jinxing her.

Guess who I met today and didn’t know it? That is, until I actually read her business card…, and then googled her. Don’t ya love google? Eve Brown-Waite

Which Barbara Are We Talking About?

Let's just get this straight...

Miss Barbara works evenings in the art gallery.
Barbara wire is what we are putting on top of the fence that surrounds the little house on the mainland to deter another break in.
Bigness's favorite Barbara is in Belmopan, the Spanish boy at the bus station peels his head nice.

What is a peeled head you ask? In aMerica it is known as a brush cut. Its not bad looking on him and being a man of 63, he certainly has a lot of fast growing hair to control. The only problem wtih the Spanish boy is he works when he wants. Sometimes Bigness will get frustrated , driving all the way to Belmopan and the boy isn't there in his little shed next to the bus station, cutting piles of hair, so he comes home and takes the clipper to his head himself. When I hear the sound of buzz buzz buzz coming from the bathroom, I refuse to get involved. I don't want to take the blame, and I don't want to accidently shave his initials into the back of his head.

The above terms are not to be confused with Baba which is what runs from your nose mixed with eyewata. It is also the swill you get at the bottom of a coke bottle when you share your drink.

If you need translation help, let me know because sometimes I actually understand what Bigness is saying.

Note: you will not find these terms in babelfish.

The People Have Spoken

Its a new day in Belize. Its 6 a.m. and unofficial reports have said that the UDP has swept the general election 2 to 1. This is getting interesting. The people I spoke to were ready for a change, any change. And although they were skeptical that Dean Barrow can do the job, they felt they could no longer deal with the Musa administration anymore and needed a break from secret contracts, missing money, cronyism, graft and corruption. Hard core PUP supporters either didn't show up to vote, or voted their discontent, leaving in office only a few of the old crowd. This is not unique to Belize with 4 landslide elections in their short history of democracy. People all over the world want a government that makes them feel safe within their borders, protected along with their assets, see that they restrain evil and that justice is done, and in return not feel their pockets emptied on the 15th of each month.

The government has changed without a single bullet fired.

Belize is divided into 31 areas with a representative for each. Out of 31 areas, 6 went to the PUP and 25 went to the UDP. There is no seperate election for Prime Minister. Whichever party wins the majority of areas, their party leader becomes Prime Minister. When the party changes, the portfolios all change and the losing party has to hand over all the ministerial positions. So, we will be seeing a new Minister of Tourism, Defence, Lands, Finance, Health, Education, etc. PUP representatives who were elected again are Cordell Hyde, Mark Espat, Francis Fonseca, Said Musa, Florencio Marin Jr. and Johnney Bricenio. Rumors have it that the PUP will be changing party leader and not be giving the title to Said Musa.

Manuel Heredia, the UDP representative for Caye Caulker, was relected. One of the biggest upsets is Ralph Fonseca, the now former Minister of Finance (where is the money?), and the area representative for where we have our house on the mainland, was voted out of office by Hutchenson, just a regular guy. David defeated Goliath.

Caye Caulker was quiet on election day. No campaigning or loud speakers were allowed near the polling sites. By law there were no liquor sales until after the polls closed at 6 p.m. The day was off and on sprinkling rain, a cold front stood stationary over the northern coastal areas. Two thirds of the registered voters on Caye Caulker turned out to vote. The Belize Defence Force was here to oversee the election and when the polls closed took the ballot boxes on their boat, each party representative, along with the representative from Elections and Boundaries, to Belize City to be counted. Bigness stayed up most of the night watching Channel 7 News and Krem Radio like he was on a hurricane watch. I woke up from time to time asking what was going on as they annnouned updates on the vote counting. The village is waking up now with a lot of hooting and hollering, drunks that started at 6 p.m. last night are headed home to sleep it off.

For me, its time to make the coffee.

Super Thursday Coming Up, Politics... Schmolotics!

Today is Wednesday, tomorrow (Feb 7) is general election day in Belize. I haven't written about it before because mostly I don't care.

The other day I opened the San Pedro Sun newspaper up and saw my sister-in-law Miss Ophelia center stage photo on a full page PUP advertisement for Mel Spain, who is running for area representative Belize Rural South, which is the district that Caye Caulker is in. Nice photo of Miss Feli, I kept the ad.

Business has been a little bit slow all over Caye Caulker these last few weeks, so the idle chat and discussion has inevitably turned to politics between Shirls and me. Shirls is the daytime DJ and barista for the store. I can tell the weather before I even get out of bed in the morning because she plays Norah Jones when its raining. She's a CNN watcher and I've done my best to explain American politics, the house and the senate, what a primary election is, what the electoral college is (who knows?) recalling 7th grade American history class and 11th grade government class (which I wasn't paying attention in anyway).

She won't admit what party she's supporting for Prime Minister, but her favorites for area representative are mostly UDP, where mine are mostly PUP. Her choices are on what the area representative has done for the people, my choices tend to be how handsome the candidate is, and how well I like his voice. Francis Fonseca (swoon), Cordell Hyde (hot flash), Godfrey Smith (blush), and Mark Espat (o.k. he's not as cute as the others, but I like him anyway) I don't mind seeing Said Musa as the prime minister, because he has a full head of hair, but he's SO SHORT. Dean Barrow (the opposition candidate for PM) is bald with a head so shiney you could see your reflection in it, and when you mute the TV (as I usually do when they are talking politics) his gestures look like he's trying to imitate the Pope.

I am not politically minded, but here is Lee's Quickstart Political Guide for foreigners. Any Belizean reading this post should feel to correct me in the comments area as I am not educated on these things. These are my observations and point of view. At the end of the day none of it matters anyway because they are all corrupt. Governments are all corrupt, power corrupts because people are basically greedy. I say people get into politics because they don't want to get a real job.

Belize has no term limits. The Prime Minister could be relected again and again and again. And like any system that has no term limits and does not have an elected senate, they just get better and better at hiding the money.

Four parties are running.

The PUP (blue) is currently in power both the Prime Minister Said Musa, and the majority of the senate, plus most area representatives are PUP. If I had to compare this party to a U.S. political party I would say they are like the Republicans. The PUP is being supported by Hugo Chavez (the devil according to some Americans) from Venezuela, and is also being supported by the U.S. government. The U.S. ambassador was here on Caye Caulker the other day to attend the ground breaking for the new water treatment plant on Caye Caulker. And if that's not campaigning, I don't know what is.

The UDP (red) is the main opposition for Prime Minister. Dean Barrow (a lawyer)Belize City
is running for the office of Prime Minister. Belize City went through quite an upset a few years ago when Ms. Zenaida Moya a young Belizean Woman with her master's degree from The University of Detroit won the office of Mayoress, and the whole political dynamic from PUP to UDP. Zenaida Moya is NOT AFRAID TO TELL YOU OFF! I kinda like her, she has nice hair. If I had to compare this party to a U.S. political party, I would say they are like the Democrats.

The NRP (orange) is a new party with a Mennonite running for Prime Minister.

The VIP (not sure what color, let's just make them green)

Signs of the Times
The atmosphere is heating up with political rallies selling 3 dolla beers, giving away t-shirts, umbrellas, slogans painted on telephone poles, hand painted signs in front yards. In the last few weeks I've been up the Northern Highway all the way to Corozal. and I've been out the Western Highway as far as San Ignacio. If signs are the judge of things, all those little villages in the north are hardback PUP, and all the villages from Belmopan to the western border are UDP. And of course, the south is always red. The funniest sign I read was posted way high up in someone's roadside mango tree and read "UDP would sell dey mother" Trees painted blue with a white X on them, telephone poles with red swaths of paint marking territory. Up and down, red, blue, red, blue. Red t-shirts, blue umbrellas, red signs, blue billboards.

As for our own area representative, Manuel Heredia (UDP) . I can see that he's a man who works hard for San Pedro. Too bad he's forgotten about little Caye Caulker over here struggling just to maintain, struggling to keep our nose above water. In Belize, they call the non-elected party member for an area, the Standard Bearer. Mel Spain is the PUP standard bearer for Belize Rural South, and it looks like she could do something for Caye Caulker, but I think the people of San Pedro aren't disillusioned with Manuel Heredia yet. If Mel Spain isn't elected as area representative, she will still be working with the government representing the PUP.

My Prediction for Friday Morning:
There is no clear winner for me. Its a toss up. Will there be voter fraud? Probably. We just might need U.N. Peacekeeping forces here.

Although everyone is tired of the present administration, I don't believe Belize is ready for Dean Barrow to be Prime Minister. I'm putting into written words what I'm hearing from people on the street. They are ready for a change. If the UDP had a Spanish candidate then it would be a sure victory.

If the PUP loses the election for prime minister, they will bow out gracefully, covering their asses nicely on the way out. With a changeover in government they will be so disorganized, that for about a year they leave us alone and stop harrass.

If the UDP loses the election we better prepare for a little civil war. Remember the little civil war we went through in May of 2004 when the UDP incited a general strike? The teachers were on strike, the telecommunications strike which cut off all land lines, cell phones, no internet (unless you have a satellite dish), the riots in Belmopan between warring political parties, the BDF and Special Unit for crowd control and to quell the riot. Cousin against cousin in this country of cousins. A few people will get shot and everyone will back off again. Things got VERY quiet on Caye Caulker for a long time with no phone, no way to process credit cards, no way for the tourists to get cash advances on their plastic, flights delayed or postponed because of civil unrest, tourists fleeing like a hurricane is bearing down on them, and NOT COMING BACK.

Simple equation for Belize: no tourists = no money

Which color are you and why?

Three Words I Never Like to Say on Your Wedding Day

Cold. Dismal. Bleak. = RAIN

Rain = BAD PHOTOS

It all started with a phone call to Mr. Wizard who is my BFF, and his wife is my substitute mother. I love playing trivia with them on my team, we always win. ALWAYS.

Back to the camera. You see, I was getting a little crackling looking thing on the edge of my pictures. Sometimes you could see it, sometimes you couldn’t. So I called Mr. Wizard. I had taken the lens off, checked it, nothing there, checked the interior mirrors, looked clear, and knew I had to look deeper.

Mr. Wizard said it was probably the camera sensor which needed to be cleaned. It was quite the delicate job, and you had to be VEEERRRYYY CAAARRREEEFFFUULL (I know when he slows his speech down for me, that I need to listen closely) He would be happy to clean it for me, if I wanted to bring it over.

No thanks, I said, I think I can do it. (mistake #1)

Ooooo. Kaaaaaaay he said slowly. Everyone has a retarded friend who you help to do what you think are the most basic things. I am his retarded friend.

I opened the camera, gently flipped back the mirror like he said and opened the shutter. The little fuzz wouldn’t move, so I blew on it. (mistake #2)

Those of you cameraphiles have now just taken in a big gasp of air, because you KNOW what I just did.

Later I looked it up in the manual and it says there in big bold words… DO NOT BLOW ON THE SENSOR BECAUSE YOU CAN DAMAGE THE SHUTTER.

In addition to getting spit on the sensor, the force of my little (big) puff of air was that I had damaged one of the very thin delicate shutter louvers ($180 U.S. to repair it… in the U.S.)

This is at 11 a.m. and I’m shooting a wedding at 2 p.m.

5 minutes later I call him back…

Mr Wizard: are you calling me back to tell me that you broke your camera?
Me: uuhhh
Mr. Wizard: tee hee (he never says I Told You SO, he just laughs at me)
Me: uuhhh, yeah.
Mr. Wizard: do you need to borrow a camera?
Me: If I could…
Mr. Wizard: cmon out.

So, I hop on the motorbike and head out. They live way to the back, on the sunset side in a very quiet neighborhood of retired Belizeans and expats who have built their island retirements homes.

On the way it starts to drizzle.

G R E A T

These poor (not really poor) people from America have been planning this wedding for 6 months, brought 40 family members with them. In U.S. standards a wedding with 40 people is small, for Caye Caulker standards this is big news.

Sinking feeling segues into icky in the bottom of your stomach.
“We’ll see, we’ll see,” I say to myself
“Just wait, just wait, you never know how things will turn out.” I sooth my feelings.

I arrive at Mr. Wizard’s house. He has the camera ready, and goes over the basic functions with me. I try not to be confused as he puts it into a Pelican case (with the quick start guide). And truth be told, it’s a much (way) fancier camera than my Canon EOS, it’s a Nikon something or other. I shot a wedding at their house under the 4th floor palapa rooftop a couple of years ago for them, so I’ve used the camera. That familiarization lesson seems a century ago.

I feel my pressure up as I put the pelican case into the back blue bubble looking carrier on the motorcycle.

And then it starts to P O U R.

I decide to stop at the bride’s accommodations, its two hours before the beach portraits are going to start and they aren’t going to be done today. I always leave room to reschedule the beach portraits which usually happen before the ceremony. I get to the bride’s house and she informs me with a cheerful spirit that the big sailboat that we were supposed to go on a sunset cruise after the ceremony has engine trouble and that has been cancelled also. I don’t want to tell her that my camera broke and I’ve borrowed a camera from Mr. Wizard, but somehow I blurt it out… and I feel better.

She takes it in stride, “That’s cool.” she says, “I know the pictures will look nice.”

(and I think to myself… not nice in the rain... no amount of Photoshop will be able to fix this... and I want to cry)

I head off on the motorbike taking the circumspect route of driving around giant craters temporarily filled with muddy coral sand water on airstrip road and cut over to the beach path as soon as I can get clear. I ride gently as I don't want to risk having the borrowed camera flip out of the blue carrier bubble.

I lay down on the bed at home.
No TV, no CD player blasting, windows and doors closed.
Must. Need. Quiet.
I hate being more nervous than the bride.

The ceremony starts at 4 p.m., the wind is whipping.

The rain lets up and the sun comes out for about 5 minutes. Long enough to do the ceremony shot completely with a flash, a first for me, fumbling for settings and jockeying for position amongst the guests with cameras (Oh. The. Horror). Cold. Lifeless. Nothing I can do. I can not stop the rain coming quickly and blotting out the sun.

The reception (at the Rainbow) had a lot of special touches, an attention to details that we often skip here on Caye Caulker. Real cloth tablecloths and napkins, deep turquoise glasses for drinking champagne, light turquoise sheer runners down the middle of each table, light and fresh. Little gift boxes at each place setting filled with French chocolates, low votive candles, orchids, a program tucked into a napkin. Simple, clean and elegant.

After dinner a slide show is projected from a Mac laptop onto a sheet tacked to the wall. Baby pictures, awkward adolescence, graduations, moms and dads. Its really touching to be a stranger in the midst of friends, like a voyeur into their life.

After the slide show it was time to get on down and boogie like John Travolta. They have loaded all their favorite tracks onto an ipod and hooked it up to the Rainbow's stereo system, and it works flawless.

I left at 10 p.m., out of shots, tired, cold and wet. I spent the next day in bed. Achy, trying not to get sick.

Every day for the next 4 days we check the satellite. Every day, every day, all day rain. I know I can’t deliver cold lifeless photos or I’ll need to refund back some of their money. The internet is a tool and a weapon. One bad recommendation and it could finish you here in such a small place. I love and fear the internet.

The morning of the day they were to leave, the weather cleared and we did it! Crisp clear sparkly pictures. An hour on the beach netted 20 ooo-sha-boo-boo lalalalalalala pictures.

Phew!