Alligators at the Door

Her name was Alexandra. We met her in the poorest community on Ambergris Caye. This little island girl skipped barefoot across the maze of narrow planks that served as a path connecting flooded houses to the banked sand road. We followed her. It wasn't until later that day that we learned alligators live in the shallow waters beneath her home.

Imagine her delight when we invited her and her 6 year old brother to drive our rented golf cart. Giggles and wide-eyed excitement. Imagine what happened to my heart when she asked me to take her home with me. I don't know why it seems I run into the these stories over and over again. Everywhere I go I see the beauty in the poverty. Just look at this little girl's genuine smile. When was the last time I smiled like that? When was the last time you did?

Lions and Tigers and....well just Lions...Oh My!

The day I stood on top of the Ngorongoro crater, I cried. I could hardly believe God's goodness to me. I have been all around the world. I have seen so many amazing things. Really I have. But who would have ever thought I would be staring down into a vast African plain where wild is really wild? Where people and lions co-exist and beauty is seen in the ruggedness of life. I cannot get this out of my heart.

These two lions were mating. We sat for almost an hour watching them from just feet away. Even in watching their behavior, I saw the simple thread of constancy that runs through all of life, the similarity of all species....the similarities between lion and man. It made me feel like I was part of something grand. 

Dancing with the Masai

I think I walked into a National Geographic magazine. You know, like when you open a book and the pictures come so alive that you get sucked into a different world. This Masai woman lived in a tiny village complete with dung and ash huts and flocks of goats protected from lions by an extremely tall fence made from young acacia trees. She was a little suspicious of me until I joined in the dance, bouncing and clacking the beaded rings she gave me to wear around my neck. Oh joy, great joy! Dancing with the Masai on the African plain!

Facing Fear

I hate it when fear keeps me from doing something wonderful. I will admit, occasionally I back out and miss out. But when I stood above this 150 deep cenote (entrance to an underground river) I decided that I was jumping in, no matter what. It wasn't the long jump that scared me, although the 30 foot drop was intimidating, it was the fact that 150 feet below the surface huge caverns open up and lead to who-knows-where and have who-knows-what lurking there. But on this particular day the sun was shining and the constant water fall created subtle rainbows among the hanging roots and vines. It almost looked inviting. So I swallowed my fear and I jumped.

And I disappeared. Deep into the abyss where the water is inky. It seemed to take forever to find the surface again. But when I did, I was flooded with exhilaration. Yes...I WiLL do that again.

Mexican Street Food and Full Hearts

Pesos in my pocket and camera in hand, I parked my car in the pueblo and got out and walked. It wasn't long before I came across the bread bike. A tiny Mayan man had piles of decadent goodies in a big tray on the front of his bicycle. I hadn't planned on eating four pastries for breakfast, but I just couldn't decide which one to buy.

This is the way they do street food in the little villages that dot the jungle along the coast. Bicycles designed to carry large loads roam the streets, their peddlers ringing little bells or sounding horns to announce tortillas, or fresh squeezed juices, or slow grilled chicken, or, in this case, dessert.

I paid a whopping 18 pesos for my find, immediately stuffed a sugar coated bun in my mouth, and kept walking.

Just around the corner I saw this little guy...

He was waiting so patiently in a little plastic chair while his mother sold banana leaf stuffed tamales from an old cooler. I am amazed at how well behaved the children are here. I pulled a strawberry swirled treat out of my bag and asked his mother if he could have it. Of course she smiled and agreed. Little Mr. Cutie Pie jumped right up and grabbed it and then climbed back into his chair with his prize.

Of course I bought tamales from mom. And I bought more than I needed too. But that's OK because I gave them to an old man digging up his front yard and I went home with something better than a full belly. I went home with a full heart.

Getting a Car Painted in Mexico

This 1973 VW Bug ...called a Vocho (pronounced Bocho) here in Mexico, has been sitting in the Pueblo getting painted for almost a month now. At least she is finally green. The origianl plan was to paint an OM symbol on the driver's door, but I am getting impatient.

Did I mention patience? This is a trait you need to cultivate if you want to spend time in Mexico. Manana means "some time in the future" and that's ok if you are enjoying the sun and drinking a margarita. But when you get into the nitty gritty of life and you need to get a car painted, you better believe it will test your patience.

When I first dropped this car off, they said it would take a week. Its been a month.

Well at least there isn't a dog named Tranquillo living under it. My old BMW that I took to the shop around the corner to get some engine work done had to be retrieved 6 months later and poor Tranquillo had to be evicted from his home. That car is now sitting in my garage waiting for my attention (and for me to find replacement parts for the parts the mechanic lost).

But the Bocho (written that way to remind you of how to say it) is coming home tomorrow. Its a gift for my daughter. I think she's going to name it The Avacado.

Feeding Iguanas

black spiny-tailed iguana

"Here lizard, lizard, lizard..."

I called, but he didn't come. He flung himself into a crevice between the rocks. Flung is a good word for it. The Yucatan's black spiny-tailed iguanas are the fastest running lizards on earth. I left him a treat. Three round green pods. Maybe, when I was gone, he would venture back into the sunshine and find my peace offering.

I hope to make friends with him, the lizard that is, or at least one of them. Every time I head down to the beach I startle a flock of them sunbathing in the grass or on the walk or on top of the cemented limestone walls.

They love hibiscus flowers, which is not surprising. I love hibiscus tea (called Jamaica here and pronounced like hamica). They love strawberries too, but those are a little more difficult to come by.

So the other day when I managed to get close to one, I offered him a round green pod from an orange flowered tree. I have no idea what the pod is called. I have no clue as to the kind of tree. But Mr. Lizard didn't seem to care. He just snatched it up and gulped it down right there in front of me.