Belizean attitudes & Hurricane Season

About thirty minutes before my flight to Miami was supposed to take off, chaos broke out in the Belize City airport. Hurricane Dean was still (at my estimation) about 230 miles offshore, but those first drops of rain caused pandemonium. Kids were crying, adults were whispering, and everyone was flicking their eyes back and forth to gauge the reactions of their peers. Thunder struck, someone gasped.

If this seems a bizarre scene already, it was stranger still when compared to the interactions I'd had with local Belizeans over the past few days as the storm was approaching. Time after time, I would be looked at with a mix of curiosity and amusement when I asked about Dean - as though people were saying "why would you ask such a question, silly girl?"

The thing that I learnt about hurricanes in Belize was that there is a limited window in which to worry. It's either going to hit, or it's not - and it changes it's path so frequently that there really isn't any use worrying until you know you should. Dave and I almost didn't go out to Caye Caulker last weekend, because the storm was brewing. It hadn't yet hit the Dominican Republic, and was still a few days from Jamaica, but we were going to cancel the most relaxing and rejuvenating part of our vacation out of worry. We worried that we wouldn't be able to get back in time, that the weather would be bad, the water would be choppy. In fact, it was beautiful and the boat ride back was smoother than the one there.

On Sunday morning (less than 48 hours before Dean hit), we asked around, and most of the locals seemed intent on staying unless evacuations were issued (which they were, later that day). They said Dean wasn't the first hurricane to sweep into their lives, and wouldn't be the last. A few people started lazily boarding up their windows and Dave and I spend a lovely morning at the Split (the only good swimming area) before packing up and taking a boat back to the mainland.

On Monday, everyone was business. The hotel issued us a non-liability form, basically saying that if we chose to stay and the hurricane hit, we weren't their problem. That made us a little tense, but it was all matter-of-fact. We headed to the airport, past people nailing plywood to their windows, and straight into the ensuing chaos of two hundred or so tourists with nothing better to do than freak out.

It's probably obvious by now that I have no real conclusion to my story. But a lesson was learned about worry, and the nature of stress. I was so impressed with the Belizeans. They didn't worry until it was time, and then they did. For all the worrying in the airport, I believe we all got out just fine. I guess it comes down to the old adage: Don't Worry, Be Happy. (And, of course, be smart).