So I have a curse. I thought I could have evaded this curse. I thought the curse would have stayed in the Developed World when I left. I thought perhaps, due to the simple lifestyle I am committed to living down here, the curse would be obsolete. But sadly I am here to say that the curse has followed me to Belize, followed me into the jungle and followed me down dirt roads to remote Maya Villages.
"What is this dreaded curse" you ask? I am cursed with my interactions with machines, more specifically: automobiles. This all started just as I came to an age when I was legally allowed to drive. I use the term legally because in terms of ability I shouldn't have been able to get behind the wheel. The first instance occurred when as a young boy of 15 my dad asked me to start my Mom's stick shift to warm it up before school. Nervous due to the clutch and overall lack of talent, I climbed into the Jeep. The engine coughed and sputtered but didn't turn over. My dad standing nearby said " Put it in First". (He forgot to tell me to keep the clutch down) I did as I was told... and.... you see where this is going.... and drove full speed into my own bedroom. Rattled and nervous to the point of feeling like vomiting I climbed out of the Jeep vowing to NEVER drive stick shift again. (Not to mention embarrassed! Who drives into their own house?! haha)
Next incident involved my getting into a serious car wreck. I was driving a car that wasn't mine. In fact it was a dear friend, and retired priest, Fr. Jake's car. The holiness apparently faded from his use to mine. Long story short, I hit a car who hit a car, a Beemer and a Lexus respectively. ...I know, it was bad. I was hospitalized and thought I broke my neck. The next day I was released, no injuries.
Incident number three: I get rammed by a fellow high schooler on the way to a lacrosse game. Luckily not my fault. Then again the insurance company wasn't pleased.
This brings me to Belize. In my first 2 months in the country I get a ticket because I parked in an area that you aren't allowed to park in. There was, of course, no sign indicating such a rule so I was a bit annoyed but figured " Well Matt you are a visitor here and its your fault".
A few months passed with no signs of the curse. But that usually is a bad sign, like children who are too quiet. Something was bound to surface. Then in the past two weeks the following has happened
- On the way back from a retreat in the furthest village I got a flat in the middle of the jungle with the next village 10 km away. It was about 95 degrees. Well, we jack up the truck take off the spare only to find out someone has taken the tire iron out of the truck. (Who in their right mind takes a tire iron out of a truck that only drives on dirt roads?!) With Pat and I were 10 12 year old Maya children. We sent two boys to walk to the next village, we didn't know how far it was. So for two hours we sat and waited for help. We had no water, we were in the middle of the jungle so there was about 100% humidity and a lot of bugs swarming us. And I repeat 10 12 year children. I was going through all I could remember from Bear Grylls' survival information, except I could only remember the episodes where he is trapped in the Arctic, and building a snow cave to sleep in was not helpful at all.
After two hours we get help and make our way home.
-That weekend we are driving to the river. The river is the ideal spot during the heat, the sea is warmer than bath water. On the way back with two families in the back seat the truck breaks down. Not only does it break down but a freak rain hail storm begins. Just my luck. We sputter and break down after going about 20 yards. This continues for about 3 miles. By the end of the trip which normally takes a half hour (it took us 2 and a half hours) we end up pushing the truck into Ms. Cathy's driveway. She works with us at the Parish. A bus going into to town was just passing as this happened. We caught the bus into town but didn't have money to pay, thankfully the driver realized we were a mess and let us ride for free.
- Next up, within the same week. On the way back from a retreat the clutch breaks and we have to ride for 40 minutes in first gear from one village to the next. We also pop a tire. Double Whammy! (Before this incident I nearly broke my tailbone when I fell out of a tree into the river we were swimming in) We fix the tire, with the help of an ingenious teacher who made a ramp system to lift the truck. (I have a theory that all Maya men are engineers, carpenters, and electricians) The poor trucked limped home with us in it. nothing like a 3 and half hour commute home!
- The next day I get pulled over at a police check point and get a ticket for a tail light and blinker that are out.
Sweet Jesus I should never drive again. But my job has me travelling as far as 2 hours on the road to various villages. Something tells me this will only be the beginning and The Curse will rear its ugly head again.
I hope this entry made you smile, laugh or if you are my mom.... do a jig because I am no longer on the family car insurance.
ps. Doug, I hope The Curse doesn't impede my dream of being a member of the Glenn Gault Race Team. I promise not to touch the cars.
