Pixie in Paradise

Hunting for food will most likely be a common theme on this blog and with it comes some experiences worth sharing for sure, including the characters I encounter while looking for a particular item. Tomorrow I will head to the west side of the island somewhere near where, two days ago, a man arrested and in handcuffs ran to avoid the police and landed in the mouth of a crocodile. The croc bit threw his handcuffs and tore open much of one of the man’s arms. Because he was screaming so loudly the police were able to locate him and then had to take a boat one hour into Belize City to seek medical treatment. I have no idea if this man is still alive, considering he was bleeding out I’m sure for the entire hour plus, before surgeons could get hold of him.

Belize has two native crocodile species. The saltwater American crocodile can grow 20 feet or more and mostly lives in mangrove swamps and lagoons. The freshwater Morelet’s crocodile is found in rivers and lagoons. The croc that grabbed this guy was of the American variety, living in a mangrove and most likely protecting a nest of eggs. Supposedly these creatures aren’t really looking to run straight for a human unless they’re desperately hungry or protecting babies.

Back to our regularly scheduled program of hunting for fruit, not humans. 

The first time I met DahRoot was last week while writing at the seaside cafe. I’d seen him come through many times but hadn’t spoken with him. I remembered Rasta wanted bananas for milkshakes so I bought a couple and with it I got a very metaphysical lecture about the meaning of life, according to a Rastafarian. (“Rasta” is my boyfriend’s nickname because of his knee-length locs but he is not a practicing Rastafarian, like DahRoot). DahRoot is a surprisingly deep individual and while I may not agree with or even understand some of the words that come out of his mouth, a lot of what he says is very intellectual and has substantial merit, to me anyway. Because of the Creole accent, I sometimes miss words or even whole phrases. I even end up asking Rasta to repeat himself a lot or rewording something so I can understand. In this case, most of the time if DahRoot asks if I understand and the few occasions I can’t, I typically nod my head in agreement and let him keep speaking. Because truthfully, I may not grasp something he is trying to convey even if repeated and might as well let him stay on track. They are fascinating lectures and come free with purchase of fruit!

DahRoot asked for my zodiac sign. Wondering if this is a prerequisite for the Rastafarian looking Belizean men, since I’ve never been asked by any native Mayan or mestizo people so far. While Rasta looks Rastafarian but isn’t, one of the first questions he asked me was what my zodiac sign was. Telling DahRoot I am a Capricorn he acknowledged that his dad was one as well. Oh boy. Asking my birth date I said January 14th and he said that his dad’s birthday was January 15th. DahRoot is a Virgo/Libra and I don’t quite know what having a Capricorn dad must have been like. I braced myself for stories but instead he said that being a Capricorn means I have the ability to love like no other. That is definitely true, but when we are done we’re done. As in douse it in gasoline, walk away throwing a match as you go, kind of done. He continued, saying we all have two sides to love, positive and negative, polarities of every kind. Okay, that tracks.

In addition, some random bits of information I gleaned were,

1. We are all 98% the same person, not that different (I think that’s what he meant)
2. Do not stay where it’s not meant for us (YES)
3. Anything that comes out of your mouth over the age of 50 is wisdom (I told him I’m three years away and he said he’s already made it there clearly indicated by this lecture) 
4. He said green is my color, like my eyes and the ocean (I wonder if he sees the color blue the way the rest of us see green?)

SO much more good stuff I can’t remember so these will hopefully become weekly lessons each time I hunt him down for fruit. For $5 I got one of the best metaphysical and philosophical lectures of my life AND a huge ripe guacamole for avocado, six bananas (three ripe, three not) a golden plum and a bite of golden plum to sample before and after being dipped in cayenne powder. 

Yowza! It was delicious but I still seem to be keeping up the trend where I’m taking food from people’s questionably clean/unclean hands including the cayenne pepper he placed on his finger to put on the fruit. I didn’t want to put my own finger on it because I probably hadn’t washed my hands. Oh well. It’s done, it was delicious and we’re going to try to move on from it!

A few days later we ran into him at the water taxi station when Rasta and I had to run errands in Belize City and I bought a bag of unripe golden plums. Supposedly giving them two days and they would turn yellow. I’m still waiting. Locals eat them green with a little salt and pepper; they also help when eaten that way with morning sickness in pregnant women. After trying two green bites and giving up, I decided the yellow ones are best, a completely different and heavenly taste. I didn’t do many psychedelic drugs but know what they’re supposed to feel like and for me, golden plums open all the gateways of my mind and taste buds like a wonderful drug. We shouldn’t underestimate these crazy little fruits.

A couple of days after that I was in my usual spot, as indicated in many of my photos, including the ones below, and DahRoot showed up again with his fruit cart. This cafe where I do much of my writing is not only very scenic, supplied with snacks and beverages but DahRoot comes by every few days to sell bulk fruit to the cafe. They make mind blowing smoothies with it. The last two times I saw him here I was lucky enough to score fruit that looks way better than the produce in grocery stores or vendor stands on the back streets. Today was no different. Before I left the house this morning I told Rasta I wanted to buy a papaya on the way home but instead of hunting for a decent one, one came to me today! Please don’t underestimate what this means for my day. While it sounds small for people who have cars and live in cities in the US, this seemingly small task becomes difficult down here especially with the heat, humidity and sun positioned as it is, day after day in our hottest season). I also purchased a few limes and some more golden plums which he peeled for me. Score! 

While I never will be a vegan or a Rastafarian, I so enjoy spending time in DahRoot’s energy, hearing him speak and buying such quality produce without exhausting myself to find it. He’s also just a really chill dude who has 11 children and I’m very happy that it doesn’t feel like he expects me to be any part of that. I have so many male friends back home but very quickly discovered that isn’t how things roll in Central America, at least not on this island in Belize. I’m grateful to not be hunted every time I buy fruit and Rasta no doubt is too, as he is very protective when I leave the house, as he should be. Most of the locals are hunting tourists night and day, making it look like a sport. Honestly, they should apply for licenses like we do for deer hunting in the Midwest!