Month: May 2014
Facing chairs
Woman on Man
Welcome to Belize, part 2
Took Luc to the airport and drove back on my own, facing the “Welcome to Belize” sign and palm trees again – I was welcomed back to my new home, where I now am by myself again.
Headed straight for a meeting in the South Side of Belize City where I got a tour and an intense briefing about the gang violence, murders, poverty, drugs and guns that many of the children deal with on a daily basis.
Much of the marijuana here is laced with crack or sprayed on chemicals and many kids drink an easily accessible mix of alcohol and valium.
“They often start drinking at the age of 8, about the same age that they get recruited into the gangs.”
Welcome to Belize beyond palm trees and paradise beaches – the world’s third most dangerous country.
Afterworkish
Mother’s Day!
Three dives in a day.
Today we met a beautiful and curious turtle, some ugly barracudas, stingray, lobsters, squid, crabs, parrotfish, huge moray eels, a stalking grouper and a bunch of other colourful little creatures that I don’t know the names of – in the Northern Turneffe Atoll. Now we’re back at the Caye Caulker island, high on nitrogen and drunk on life.
Moja draga, moja Bekica.
There’s so much love overflow in me right now that I don’t know where to start when it comes to this girl.
She’s been there for so long, through so much, and always, always equally crazy and loving. Through the up’s and the downs, we know each other so well, we know the stories, life’s pains, the one million reasons to burst out laughing or crying. Whether it’s all the little nicknames and codes we created for things and people, or the fact that we used to sneak out of class in high school to go to car showrooms and pretend that we our very rich (and completely made up) father was going to buy us that sparkling new Mercedes SLK cabriolet, so that we could take it for a two hour spin around the city – with the wind in our hair and the CD with Jugoslavian music blasting loud enough to forget about all of life’s worries.
The amount of stories, the amount of memories, the amount of secret things we know about each other equals the amount of love I feel for my Bekica, Belma, Becky – who taught me how to sing in Bosnian and dance kolo.. and still I can’t be there for her wedding today.
And while it completely breaks my heart, I’m bursting of happiness at the same time – you’ve grown up, draga moja. We have grown up. And with a baby in your tummy, and the man of your life next to you – you’re embarking on a new adventure. And I’m there with you. Not physically. But with all my heart.
