Covid 19 messed up my winter schedule. I had plans to visit my sister on her beachfront Caribbean home in Belize early into the chill of winter. But, we all know about best-laid plans. When Robert Byrnes coined the poem in 1786, he said, “the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.” My experience had nothing to do with mice, Scotland, or poetry. It had a lot to do with a nastly little virus.
I got sick on Christmas Eve. I didn’t have horrible symptoms. I was just exhausted. Eleven days into it, I finally went to Urgent Care and the Emergency Room. That’s when I tested positive for Covid and I spent four weeks in bed. The worst news was that I most likely would test positive on Covid tests for quite a while, so Belize was out of the picture for an indeterminate time.
My doctor said it usually takes around 90 days to pass a Covid test after being struck by that nasty little virus. I was close to that limit, sort of, but the next hurdle was getting a test within the 72-hour window required by Belize. Urgent Care would not give a test for travel. My pharmacy couldn’t guarantee results that fast. My doctor recommended another site. It was impossible to call them so I had to go there and meet them face-to-face.
It was kind of like driving up to a toll booth. I asked the woman there about the speed of results, asking, begging, if it was possible to get a Monday test, with Tuesday results, for a Wednesday flight. She was positive, hopeful, but made no promises. I said I wanted to be the first patient of the day. What time did they open? 8:00
I showed up at the testing site at 7:30, the first client as promised. I fully expected to wait there a half hour and read. But, a nice young woman opened the door to speak to me. She asked for my identification. I said, “Before you see my I.D., I think you need to see these donuts.”
I think the women liked that.
I was instructed to pull up to the next door. Again, I expected to wait a half hour, but another woman came out to swab my throat. I fully recommend throat cultures over nasal intrusions. No pain. No tears. No trauma. I was tested and home before that testing site even officially opened. And, in less than 24 hours, I had the needed test results and I was free to go to Belize.
This little corner of Caribbean paradise had Covid restrictions greater than anything I’d seen in Ohio. Before entering any store or office, everyone was expected to stop at the hand sanitation center for cleaning up. The 10:00 P.M. curfew is still in effect, but that doesn't present any kind of difficulty in my life in San Pedro. Fortunately, armed police boats no longer circled the island to prevent passage back and forth from Mexico. Still, everyone was required to wear a mask at all times outside of the house. There was an exception for exercise, but most other times, my mask was up and sweat poured down the sides of my face. Masks were seriously never meant for tropical weather.
I got sick on Christmas Eve. I didn’t have horrible symptoms. I was just exhausted. Eleven days into it, I finally went to Urgent Care and the Emergency Room. That’s when I tested positive for Covid and I spent four weeks in bed. The worst news was that I most likely would test positive on Covid tests for quite a while, so Belize was out of the picture for an indeterminate time.
My doctor said it usually takes around 90 days to pass a Covid test after being struck by that nasty little virus. I was close to that limit, sort of, but the next hurdle was getting a test within the 72-hour window required by Belize. Urgent Care would not give a test for travel. My pharmacy couldn’t guarantee results that fast. My doctor recommended another site. It was impossible to call them so I had to go there and meet them face-to-face.
It was kind of like driving up to a toll booth. I asked the woman there about the speed of results, asking, begging, if it was possible to get a Monday test, with Tuesday results, for a Wednesday flight. She was positive, hopeful, but made no promises. I said I wanted to be the first patient of the day. What time did they open? 8:00
I showed up at the testing site at 7:30, the first client as promised. I fully expected to wait there a half hour and read. But, a nice young woman opened the door to speak to me. She asked for my identification. I said, “Before you see my I.D., I think you need to see these donuts.”
I think the women liked that.
I was instructed to pull up to the next door. Again, I expected to wait a half hour, but another woman came out to swab my throat. I fully recommend throat cultures over nasal intrusions. No pain. No tears. No trauma. I was tested and home before that testing site even officially opened. And, in less than 24 hours, I had the needed test results and I was free to go to Belize.
This little corner of Caribbean paradise had Covid restrictions greater than anything I’d seen in Ohio. Before entering any store or office, everyone was expected to stop at the hand sanitation center for cleaning up. The 10:00 P.M. curfew is still in effect, but that doesn't present any kind of difficulty in my life in San Pedro. Fortunately, armed police boats no longer circled the island to prevent passage back and forth from Mexico. Still, everyone was required to wear a mask at all times outside of the house. There was an exception for exercise, but most other times, my mask was up and sweat poured down the sides of my face. Masks were seriously never meant for tropical weather.
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The owner, Calvin, has cared for the iguana at this reserve for over a decade. He’s really a friendly soul. He said he wanted to teach his children all about kindness and his method was through lizards. Calvin isn’t just kind to his children and reptiles. Shockingly, unBELIZEably, it is free to visit the sanctuary.
I came with such low expectations. I’ve visited third-world zoos in the past. I expected reptiles in cages. The sanctuary boasts over 250 iguanas. Yes, they’d be easy to photograph and I’d get closer than I usually can get to the critters in the wild. However, they would still be in cages.
But, they weren’t.
I spied my first iguana on the road, by a mangrove lagoon area, before I saw the entrance to the sanctuary. And then, I saw so many more. Upon entering the Eco Iguana Corner Foundation, free-range (or free-swamp) iguana wandered on the pathways, through the mangrove roots, across the access bridge and up into the branches. They came in all sizes! There were some of the biggest iguanas I’d ever seen in all my travels. And, delightfully, they were accustomed to visiting humans and had no fear. Yes, some people might have a little fear of leaping lizards over a yard long, but these critters knew how to thank the hands that fed them. Bring them fresh fruit – and their favorite is bananas – and they would eat right out of your hands. They didn’t mind posing for photos at all. To get the full iguana experience, check out this video of leaping lizards.
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Iguana are now a protected species in Belize. They didn’t used to be and they didn’t earn the nickname “bamboo chicken” for nothing. I learned on previous trips to the island that most people didn’t eat black iguana. They preferred the green ones. Personally, I prefer meat that goes “cluck” or “moo”. But, I asked around how to prepare an iguana if you were going to cook one. Nobody could tell me. They said I’d have to ask someone from Guatemala. Alas, I met no Guatemalans.
I did, however, meet a lot of Belizeans and dogs when I walked every morning. The Belizeans were usually gardeners and property managers of the rental homes I passed along the way. Lulu, Cinnamon, Brownie and a few other dogs that frequently joined in on the morning walks belonged to those properties. Most houses were on the left side of my walk, along the Caribbean Sea. The right side of the street (actually a dirt path) offered swamp land, occasional iguanas, tropical birds, mangroves and a lot of muck and mire.
I did, however, meet a lot of Belizeans and dogs when I walked every morning. The Belizeans were usually gardeners and property managers of the rental homes I passed along the way. Lulu, Cinnamon, Brownie and a few other dogs that frequently joined in on the morning walks belonged to those properties. Most houses were on the left side of my walk, along the Caribbean Sea. The right side of the street (actually a dirt path) offered swamp land, occasional iguanas, tropical birds, mangroves and a lot of muck and mire.
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But, the dog jumped in without a care in the world. And, Lulu was just fine.
However, her activity got me looking on the other side of the swamp/stream/murky water. And, that was when I spotted the crocodile. It's the closest I've ever seen one in the wild. It was about six or eight feet long and 15 steps away. Fifteen steps wasn't a big enough distance to feel safe if there wasn't a body of water separating me from those jaws. But, there was that water and I got a great picture during this walk on the wild side.
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