Garifuna music serenaded me while I waited for my red luggage at the airport. Now pondering faces stare out the window, at the lush greenery Belize has to offer. I am sitting on this blue school bus, with warm wind ferociously blowing at my face, brushing my hair in a chaotic frenzy. Inhaling the humidity mixed with dirt/soil of central American air....an atmosphere triggering familiarity.
The country roads remind me of Malaysia. With its complimentary tall coconut and palm trees. Wooden houses in my peripheral vision evoking memories of my great-grandmother's in Melaka.
It is funny how my identity resurfaces and these images tug at my roots. Especially when I am so far from home. It is funnier how Malay songs automatically stream into my earphones from my cheap mp3 player, setting the mood. Coincidence? Or maybe Belize is trying to tell me something...
Passing by shambles for houses. Young boys burning garbage with skin as copper-coloured as my own. A photograph Omar once showed me, of his grandmother burning garbage in Malaysia suddenly entered my minds' eye.
I wonder what else Belize will bring...
-written from my journal in Belize City, to San Pedro Columbia 16/02/13
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