A wonderful morning reflection...

The following is a journal entry of mine from last week that I thought I would share with you all in regards to one of my Belizean morning experiences. Enjoy!

This morning was such a great morning - a big part of it may have had to do with the fact that it’s Friday and the weekend is oh so close. Just like every other morning my alarm went off at 5:11am and I hit the four minute snooze. When the alarm went off again I thought about rolling over and going back to sleep. Last night Emily, Susannah (two of my community mates) and I decided that we would take the day off from running and do a yoga session at sunrise on the dock. Although this was an exciting idea last night, when morning came my excitement level seemed to drop a few scales. After hitting the snooze button one more time, I decided I better get up and head upstairs to wake up the girls.

As always, the sunrise was beautiful and the air was nice and cool, perfect for our very first yoga session – which somehow I was designated to lead in instruction…with the help of a couple of yoga books we found around our house which seemed to have been printed in the early 80’s. As we set up our “yoga mats” (aka bath towels) and began to attempt to stretch and bend our bodies as demonstrated in the books, I once again took notice of the peaceful beauty of the morning in Belize. It’s really amazing how every morning I have been able to experience this beauty and continue to take note of it. I am very grateful for the ability to continue to see this beauty and can only hope that I will not fall into the blindness of complacency that often comes in life.

Following our yoga session, Emily and I walked down the street to the market to get some fruits and vegetables for the day. Although there were no bananas in the market today, we settled for some deliciously ripe mango and papaya – always a good choice to brighten up any morning. The market was full of the usual Mayan men and women who travel by bus from their villages into town to sell their goods. Dressed in their brightly colored dresses and their worn in work pants, they line the street setting up their stands displaying their fruits and vegetables in hope that their produce will catch your eye. I love going to the market because you are able to take notice of all the hard work that has gone into cultivating the food. You purchase the food directly from those who grew it; you put the money directly into the hands of those who deserve it. The market experience allows you to truly appreciate your food in knowing that woman or man was the individual who worked so hard to bring your food to life.

After breakfast I made my way to the post office to pick up my package that I had been told had arrived. I was excited to go and get my package because I had asked Mom to send my running shoes, which are fairly important seeing that I’ve been running, and a few of my favorite recipes from home seeing that now I have two nights a week when I am the cook for the house. The part that I wasn’t looking forward to was paying the fee that the Belizean Post Office charges for certain items that are sent into the country (electronics, clothing, shoes, etc.). I had brought money expecting to pay somewhere around 50 Belizean dollars or more – which is quite steep considering my puny monthly stipend. I walked into the post office with the plan of charming the postal worker with a warm good morning and a quick little flash of the pearly whites. What I was met with was a customer in line discussing politics with the worker behind the counter – not exactly what I needed. Anyways, I did my best with my greeting and smile and as I opened my package to display the goods of my package the worker began to slowly examine each item. On top of everything in the box was a letter that read “Hello Pat, Enjoy! Love, Mom” – Bingo! Pulling the sympathy card, I thought. Then I saw the Ziploc bag of freselles (my favorite home made snack) which made me really excited for the package! I even considered offering the worker some as a sign of peace, and that’s a big deal because freselles are one the thing I’m not very good at sharing. Before I could offer he asked me “How long have you been in the country?” To which I responded, “Well… (crap, it’s only been a month, think of something to say!)…I’ll be in the country for two years; I’ve been in Belize for a month.” No response. After a few more minutes of his close inspection of my sneakers, he told me he wouldn’t charge me the normal fee this time. I could’ve jumped over the counter and kissed him I was so happy. I thanked him profusely, told him to have a great weekend, and made my way back home. On the walk back I broke open the bag of freselles, started snacking away, and knew then that it was going to be a phenomenal Friday.