Trip 2

In summer of 2006, I signed up to volunteer for the Belize Valley Archaeological Reconnaissance project in Belize, Central America in order to get some field work experience under my belt before graduating. Basically, it was a bunch of Anthropology undergrads either volunteering or getting credit for lending a hand to a bunch of grad students (our sitters/staff) and their superiors (uni professors). There were 2 groups: 1 worked in the ruins seen in the slideshow, and group 2 at a cave shelter site (grave site under a cliff in the jungle). I was part of group 2, of course.
Since we were to work outside the city, we spent weekdays in this jungle lodge and weekends back at the hotel where group 1 stayed. It all sounds posh but conditions were anything but fancy. At the lodge, it was 6 people per cabin and we were lucky to get warm water from the bucket showers after fieldwork; mosquito’s almost ate us alive; and hiked for an hour to our dig site every morning and evening through the most dangerous hiking trail I’ve encountered thus far, which we nick named “the trail of life” because it kicked out ass every time. It was a bit rough adjusting to all those things but we eventually settled a few days into the session. I hate giving into the stereotype, but what really helped us all get along and endure mosquitos from hell was good ol’ Belikin beer and my personal favorite, 1 Barrel rum n’ coke. I recall my group doing a lot of thinking and rethinking of majors out loud after dinner. Some of us discovered that they despised digging while others discovered it was indeed possible to make a pipe out of a snail shell.
I have to say, I loved the weekends most. No offense to my group, but I got along best and liked the company of group 1 instead. And that’s where I met the one we call “the little one” (Stephanie). I was only aware of tall Matt’ and I being the only supposed students from UCR ‘til he told me there was another one of us in his group. Because of Belize, the little one has joined my group of mental friends.
I took a few really neat pictures. But they just don’t compare to the real thing. I look at them now as a reminder of wacky nights, digging in graves, getting stung by spiky bamboo trees, riding canoes, riding in back of a packed truck, and picking at mosquito bites daily. Which didn’t matter at the end of the day because all that mattered was taking in as much of the eerie sounds of the jungle at night and the amazing green scenery one can’t find farther up north back home.

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