Mek Wi Finish La Ruta Maya!

Upon our arrival to the country of Belize approximately seven months ago, Kristen, John, Emily and I (first year JVs) suffered a mental lapse due in part to our excitement for our new ways of life for the next two years. The result: our promise to uphold the Jesuit Volunteer tradition of participating in La Ruta Maya (first years make up the paddlers, second years make up the support team).

La Ruta Maya is an annual 170 mile canoe race, starting in San Ignacio and ending in Belize City, which takes place over the course of four grueling days. Each year, La Ruta proves to be an international race, bringing teams from all over the world – from Japan to the United Kingdom and from the United States to its very own country of Belize. With this year’s number of over 80 registered teams, groups of three set off down the traditional route of the Maya people who once canoed down the Belize River to the sea in hopes of selling their goods at the seaport.

In normal circumstances, teams practice well in advance for the big race. That would seem only normal as teams would be spending anywhere from 17 to 30+ hours in a canoe over the span of the race. Unlike these teams, due to laziness (the thought of being in a canoe on the weekend did not seem so appetizing when you’re already lounging in the hammock), unfortunate situations (bikes falling apart on the way to the marina), and conflicting schedules with the owners of our practice boat (apparently Saturday’s aren’t a good time to practice?), my team opted for the “let’s not practice and just go for it on day one” method. Success? We would soon find out.

Our Ruta adventure started with bussing ourselves up to Belize City to meet up with the other JV team. After a six hour bus ride next to a mother nursing her oh, so pleasant kicking and screaming child, we finally arrived. The smooth sailing journey only continued when later that night our van (with both canoes strapped to the roof) ended up lodged in a sewer ditch after trying to make a too sharp of a turn. After a great deal of effort in emptying the van without tipping it over, attempting the use of our soon to be exhausted upper body strength to push the van out, and, my personal favorite, hooking the van up to a good Samaritan’s SATURN vehicle (talk about serious horse power…yeah, okay), we finally managed to continue on our way.

When I awoke for the starting of Day 1, my first thought was “I’m crazy. What the hell am I doing to myself?” Little did I know I would continue to ask myself this question approximately 347 times over the next four days. Our “Mek Wi Finish!” (Translation from Creole: Let Us Finish!) Team carefully loaded ourselves into the canoe for the very first time and carved our way back and forth across the river, finally making it to the starting line. When the air horn blew, the race began. Canoes began to capsize left and right due to the crashing of boats as we managed to make our way through the chaos without hitting any floating racers.

About three hours into the race, we joined the ranks of the capsized boats as we toppled over into the gushing river rapids. With our spirits still high, we saw this as a great opportunity to 1. Utilize the river as a giant toilet, and 2. Switch our seating positions so as to discover which one of us could actually steer the boat (Em did a great job, but we joked that she was signing her name up and down the river with our canoe…it did however, prevent a few boats from passing us).

Day 1 ended after 49 miles and about 9 ½ hours of straight paddling, only to be followed by the appropriate and necessary IcyHot massages from our support team. Tenting with our fellow racers at the site along the river, we did our best to rest up for Day 2…the dreaded 60 mile day.

The next three days seemed to follow the same sort of schedule: wake up, curse repeatedly at how sore you are and how much you really don’t want to get in a canoe right now, pack the already made peanut butter sandwiches (thanks support team) into zip-loc bags in hopes of keeping them dry (only to be shoved in your mouth and swallowed as fast as possible to continue paddling), curse again at how sore you are, get in the canoe, let all the fast teams get out of your way so you can maneuver efficiently around the once again capsized boats, experience moments of joy (sing songs, make fun of the other teams like the Swamp Witches who were 60 year old women with dreadlocks and a Chihuahua with a lifejacket who beat you on Day 1, and eat a granola bar as you haven’t had one since you left the States), experience moments of anger/frustration/suicidal tendencies (the Japanese teams refuse to either speed up or slow down and come out of nowhere when you think you’ve finally lost them, the padding of your seat stops working and your butt refuses to go numb, it rains, its sunny, its windy, its doing everything but snowing, and you just want to get out of the freaking canoe but know you still have over 7 hours left in the day), reach the days’ finish lines, get out of the canoe, and finally, make an instant request for food other than a PB&J and a massage before you pass out for the remainder of the day.

La Ruta Maya proved to be the most challenging physically and mentally activity I have ever taken part in. There were points in the day when my physical pain would go numb, but the mental anguish would only continue. It seemed as though every time we settled into a serious funk, something would happen to lift our spirits (or scare the crap out of us – the dead floating crocodile) and get us moving again. One of the greatest parts of the Ruta race is the groups of people who sporadically group along the river to cheer us on. I remember one group particularly who was in a speed boat on the last day. Our team was seriously struggling, both physically and emotionally, as we were nearing the finish due to the extreme wind and current going against our canoe. As we passed the group one woman yelled – “Keep going! We’re so proud of you!” This one woman’s words of encouragement hit us all. We were instantly renewed with energy and gusto as we took off down the river.

As we made our way into the city and the finish line came into view I immediately started to tear up and was on the verge of hysterics. I was completely overwhelmed with so many emotions and pure exhaustion that I couldn’t control my level of excitement. Crossing the La Ruta Maya finish line was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I was purely elated.

The Mek Wi Finish Team proved to do quite well, beating not only every Peace Corps team except one, but we also beat the previous Jesuit Volunteer record time with our 29:51:33 race time. Though we did beat this record, I must confess that we do not hold the title as the fastest JV team as John and Kristen’s team finished this year with a time of 27:52:55 (way to go guys!). I relate their faster time to the fact that they had a much more narrow canoe…and maybe, just maybe, to the fact that they practiced. Well, I guess there’s always next year…riiight.

For more information about La Ruta Maya and to see the standings and times of the teams visit www.larutamayabelize.com