Once the sun was drooping and the temperature outside was more pleasant, I went walking on a Sunday evening headed on a straight 1 1/2 mile stroll to the border. I'd been cooped up for nearly two days sick with the flu and needed to move a bit. Strutting ahead to my favorite Belizean / Hip Hop beats, I took off, greeting people in the streets with an "Hola" or "Buenas tardes" even though I couldn't hear them in response. Just as I was crossing the last speed bump (also known as sleeping policemen) heading 'out of town' a guy on a bicycle passed by, raising an eye in my direction and saying something in passing. I greeted him curtly and he slowed a bit as if to chat, but when I continued on my way, paying him no mind, he pedaled on. I watched him veer right, off the road and onto a worm bike path, curious as to where the path led. He seemed to be heading towards a house nearby and I lost interest, instead noticing and greeting a family of six, walking into town, presumably coming from Melchor, the border town on the Guatemala side. We crossed paths and with the border straight ahead, I was ready to turn up the tunes and get some exercise. I noticed the bicycle man not far ahead of me though, glancing my way, and now on foot. My mind immediately began calculating adjusted walking speed so I could continue on my journey but not on his. To slow down would be a shame, considering the rhythms pumping through my Ipod. To speed up would be possible but then he might match my pace or just follow me, creepily staring at my ass. Perhaps these scenarios are over though, but probably not. I veered left instead taking a worn foot path and ended up looping casually and turning myself around. When back on the boulevard, I was right behind the family of six, awkwardly, and had to slow my pace. They noticed my proximity and moved one and all to cross the road, a bit to my amusement. Now I was the creepy follower.
Well, I wandered plenty and mostly successfully, only making one accidental circle as I haphazardly chose a left or right on the tangled web of roads and paths here in Benque. I saw boys beating down a mango tree, hungry for barely ripe fruits. I saw a baby brown here, nursing from its mama horse, searching for food. I saw a lively futbol match and discovered two parks I didn't know of. I saw a rabbit running loose and, right near the end of my walk, having ended up on Riverside drive by the new clinic, I'm 90% certain I saw my old cat, Mogley, crooked tail and all. I stopped in my tracks to stare at him lying there, both of us watching each other with what seemed like a moment of recognition passing between us. I took one step in his direction and he was off, between and under buildings like an alley cat who never was spoiled and loved by a human.
To end my walk and begin some visits, I stopped by Mirsa's house, my host mom. She says we're more like sisters. Her and her mom, Graciella, both wonder why I haven't visited sooner. Truth is life has gotten strangely busy considering I'm a volunteer. That and I was sick and I don't think its a nice thing to share sick germs with an 88 year old woman. I'm served cake and 7up while they finish their tea, then we go sit outside on their patio to enjoy the evening breeze and talk about family, the neighbors, work and the weather. After some time I excuse myself and go on my way, grateful as always for their friendship and hospitality. My next stops before home are the store for tortillas and beans and Yoli's. The store is unexpectedly closed so I meander over to Yoli's shop where we visit some time, again sharing stories of children, recipes, travels and crafts. She sends me on my way with a warm bowl of spaghetti. It pays to get out and walk a while. I saw new things and old, enjoyed the fresh warm air, visited some good friends and ended up fed well. I even got to have dessert first.
Sometimes its a very sweet life.
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