We promised ourselves it'd be different in Ambergris Caye, a much bigger island.
Megan scores us a split level, 2 bedroom with kitchen and balcony villa on the beach called Caribbean Villas in ambergris. Sarah and I go to a local bakery and a kid there tells us that it's the last day of carnaval, and everyone will be partying in the street, and it starts at about 6.
An English could walk by us, covered in paint... Literally head to toe covered in multicolor paint, and soaking wet. We ask her what the deal is. She is totally drunk and completely traumatized. "A five-year old shoved me into the ocean and heals me under water for a good 5 seconds.," she repeats a couple of times, the way really drunk people do when they think someone doesn't understand what they're saying. "How'd THAT happen, we all want to know." She has no idea and "she's pretty stacked," she proclaims, pointing to her puny arm muscle. Her boyfriend has absolutely nothing to say, for whatever reason.
We are now nervous, and worried about what the 5-year olds have in store for us.
We get to town, about a 15 minute walk from the hotel, tying not to get run over by tourists driving golf carts, the most common form of transportation on the island. We settle on El Salvadorean Pupuseria, and we get the last table in the restaurant. It's got a good view of the carnaval "parade" that we were promised would be going by. Our waiter gave us the whole run-down...everyone in town covers each other in paint, and there are three groups that go by that are in competition to win. The grand prize: bar tabs.
One group goes by, and it's a bunch of men dressed as women doing a choreographed "dance" to music. I can't call it drag, as none of them were actually trying to look like women. I can't really call it a dance, either. It was like a lazy hora. They all had a pair of balloons stuffed in their shirts, with the balloon knot strategically placed facing forward to look like erect nipples.
It was silly and ridiculous, and compared to Brazilian carnaval, totally low-budget, home-grown, laid-back, sweet fun. Simple and heartwarming, very family-friendly, and most importantly, everyone was totally into it.
The food was great, and the coconut mojito Sarah ordered was, like all the rest of the fruity drinks here, the size of her head, made with coconut cream and a whole lot of lime juice. We try to talk the waiter into giving us the recipe. He won't, as it just won the island's coconut mojito competition. He introduces himself, as does sarah. He says, "oh really?" And pulls up his sleeve to reveal a tattoo of her name on his arm. We bust out laughing, and when Tiffany introduces herself, he pulls down his pants a bit as if to show off the tattoo he has of her name. He didn't.
Everyone in belize is absolutely lovely.
There was a concert in the park, where everyone in town was. Everyone: families, older people, small children, tourists. We walk down the street, and everyone is looking at us in our squeaky clean state, and giving advice, even without us having to ask. We're informed that if we go inside, we will definitely get paint on us. I was the only one not dressed all pretty in a dress (forgot to pack one!) so I was prepared to get paint thrown on me, but no one else wanted to mess up their clothes or their hair. But this is exactly the kind of thing we came to Belize for... A little bit of authenticity and partying with the people. After a little deliberation, Tiffany takes off her white dress, hides it in a plastic bag, and is ready to go in her sports bra and bike shorts. Megan cautiously wraps her hair in my sweater and decides the dress can be washed. sarah creatively ties a plastic bag around her hair, which she was super protective of because she had just washed it. She was the most trepidatious of all of us. She did NOT want to get painted.
Don't worry, someone advised... They usually ask you first before they paint you. Someone else said that they'd just see us as "fresh meat," and paint us anyway.
The "fresh meat" guy was spot on... A couple of kids made a beeline for Sarah as soon as we entered the park, tore the bag right off her head, and smeared paint on her face and hair. She was not pleased. It was a bit aggressive. The most aggressive behavior we would encounter all night, thank goodness, but still alarming and upsetting.
"It washes out," someone advised. They would prove to be wrong.
We spent the rest of the evening dancing to a mix of American hip-hop and Latin music, as strangers of all ages walked up to us and very carefully and very lovingly smeared paint on our faces, exposed flesh, and clothes. They smiled and said hi. What struck us was how warm, friendly, and non-aggressive the whole scene was, except for the initial incident. In a country where EVERY man says hello, compliments or catcalls us as we walk by, not one person took the opportunity to touch us inappropriately, grab at us, harass us, or get violent or aggressive. They asked us if we wanted to dance, stood at a respectful and appropriate distance while dancing, asked our names and asked how we liked Belize. A girl, Jessie, befriended us and hung out and danced with us all night.
Even the two young boys who came to dance up on Tiffany and me, were sweet and smiley and were respectful of our space. We knew they were young, and I mean YOUNG, so Tiffany asks how old they were... They're 18 and 20. We start laughing. I say to the 18 year old... "I'm 45. I've got grandkids your age." (Botha lie, by the way.)
He smiles and shouts, "I know what to do with you! I'll make you feel YOUNG! You are beautiful!" We laugh so hard our bellies hurt. I push my little friend in the head and tell him to play with someone his own age.
We danced, we got painted all over, we went home sweaty and happy. A beautiful evening, enjoying a lovely tradition, surrounded by beautiful people, welcoming us with open arms. This is what great vacations are made of.
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