No this is not a recap of August 2009, before I moved down to the obscure little country. It is in fact the story of last weekend when Hurricane...err... Tropical Storm Matthew made his crash course to Belize. A storm that I didn't even know about until Thursday night when roommate Jeremy said "What are we going to do about this storm?". (I thought he was talking about the thunderstorms that come every single evening in PG.) So I responded
"Young Jeremy we will do what we always do, read our books maybe drink a beer or two"
" Uh no I mean the hurricane coming towards Belize"
"Hurricane?"
Jeremy shrugs, " I guess, all the Peace Corps are on standby and schools are all canceled tomorrow"
"Oh... well that sounds kind of serious"
(We JVs are generally the last to find out news with no TV or radio)
So we were unsure what was to happen next. It looked like we may be spared as the storm was aiming for Belize City ("Ha! those suckers" we thought) But Matthew had other plans for us and said "Sike! I'm coming right for YOU". Fr. Jeff our fearless leader eventually made the call Friday afternoon that we should get the heck out of town and make our way to city as soon as possible. So, my roommates and I, began to pack. In case you haven't experienced it, packing to evacuate for a hurricane is a crazy process. "what do we need?" "what if the house gets blown away?"(a strong wind makes our house sway) "How many pairs of boxers do I need?" "What do we do with the dog?"etc etc.
Off we raced in the truck... driving at a bit of a crazed speed... unsure if we were going to make the infamous Kendell Bridge in time before it flooded over and cut us off from safety. The Kendell floods during every major storm which is a real pain for those trying to go either north or south. In August I, and my fellow Belizean travelers, had to be ferried over the raging flood waters on a small boat because the bus couldn't pass. Safe? No. Adventurous? Yes.
We made the bridge and the water was low... a good omen.
The driving got a bit more intense once we reached the mountains in the middle of the journey. We reached the mountains the exact same time the rain started pouring and the sun went down. Not a good combination for the driver (me). So white knuckled for the next hour or so I wound our truck through the blind curves and steep descents with the poorly functioning windshield wipers at full speed.
At last we had made it to the city.
Long story short, we spent the weekend in the city with our amazing fellow JVs and the Jesuit community hosting us, displaced peoples from the South. We got lots of wind but not much rain in the city, and from what we heard, PG had the opposite, all rain no wind. (Also during the gale force winds I decided to give myself a haircut... mind you I haven't cut my hair in the nearly 14 months I've been here. pictures to follow. So it was a quite a big deal)
What does one do after fleeing for his life from an unknown powerful tropical cyclone?
Celebrate of course.
Upon coming home, my beloved Miss Cathy, the 60 year old cook for the priests, said "Of course this Matthew was a softpop hurricane, just like the other Matthew is a soft pop" ("Softpop" in kriole means a wuss. A name that Miss Cathy dubbed me due to the 49596 times I have been sick in this country. haha Generally it goes like this "Softpop if you put your hand in my food again I will BEAT YOU! we love each other.)
It was great to have an impromptu adventure to the City with my community mates. Now we have the irksome task of putting our lives back together post chaotic packing spree. Though it is nice to have that problem at all rather than the alternative.
Many thanks to the SJs and JVs up north for greeting, feeding and hosting us.
(note: as of this writing there is a 40% chance of a tropical storm forming off belize's coast..... gotta love hurricane season in the caribbean)
