One Week

Kelly left early this morning for Virginia. He has a week of training ahead of him for his new job. This will be our largest separation since the last time one of us was in Virginia. I will miss him dearly, but I have plenty planned to keep me busy. I'm just hoping I'll be able to sleep at night alone. I really don't like having to adjust to that. I don't like being lonely at night. I ate dinner by myself tonight for the first time in probably seven months. Food just doesn't taste the same when you're by yourself. *sigh* One week.

I Heard It On NPR

People in London are afraid now.

The way London has operated its public policing system has been like this: the police officers have not carried guns. They simply walked the streets with a radio and night stick waving at people with a smile and aiding tourists in figuring out maps and other traveling quandries. The emphasis was on a friendly group of officers people could trust and believe in.

Now some officers are carrying guns. They want to feel more protected. They want to feel more aptly able to protect the people of London.

What I don't understand is this: How will the police officers' guns help to better protect the people against bomb attacks on the subway?

Since That Moment

Sometimes things happen and you come away with a new perspective. Sometimes the new perspective is of yourself.

Sometimes one moment can change who you are.

I've been thinking a lot lately about a specific moment in group therapy last semester. I told everyone I was thinking about coming back to Boise. People were shocked. Some were adamantly against it. Some told me to do what I wanted to do. Only one - one woman fiercely into her schoolwork and 100% serious about a career and independent like no other - told me to do it. Do it, she said. William & Mary has been here for 400 years and will be here for 400 more, but he won't be, she said. If you love him, you need to be with him, she said. And then we were both crying.

Since that moment I'v been defining my role as a person in love with a man. I've had to figure out what that means to me and how I will represent that to people around me. For a long time, I was told that I don't need this and maybe even that I shouldn't want this - this life in a house with a dog and a fence and a car where we look forward to seeing each other at the end of the day and pay bills from a joint checking account.

But that was someone else's reality. I just convinced myself it was truth of sorts and that it applied to me too.

Whether I've merely been conditioned by society to believe that I need the heterosexual partner with 2.3 kids and comfy jobs or whether that's strictly outlined as my fate in my complicated little DNA codons I don't care. This is what I have because this is what I want. This time I'm not fooling myself into something because it's what is all around me or because it's according to someone else's beliefs. This is all me. I just had to wake up.

So thank you, Anne, for turning on the light. You helped me see that my life truly is my own and what I wanted to do about that. You showed me that it's my choice to share that life and that doing so can be good - it doesn't have to be what I've seen it be. You woke a part of me that was afraid and unsure but is now thriving and happy.

Sometimes things happen and you come away with a new perspective. Sometimes the new perspective is of yourself.

Sometimes one moment can change who you are.

We Finally Have A Slogan

Kelly and I finally have a slogan prompting us to be healthy people, eat well and exercise. Here it is...We're going to go from Big Fat LOSERS to Big FAT Losers. I can see the bood headlines now. Ahhh...

See, it all started when I was laying out in the yard one sunny day. I thought to myself, "If I can lay here for an hour tanning - doing something that may eventually lead me to some random skin cancer - in an effort to do something vain for my body that I deem good, why can't I also work out for an hour? Why can't I go running later? How can I convince myself that I'm too tired to actually make myself healthy but I can easily lounge around topless in the backyard making myself appear healthy according to societal dictates of the upper-"commonly non-working"-class?" Well that prompted me to email my thoughts to Kelly in - I'm sure - what was a fairly rambling, perhaps slightly caustic manner as I called us both out on ways we could do more, just don't. In said email I labeled us "big, fat losers" because it has been a while since we've worked out and we both always say "tomorrow we're going to start working out again" but somehow, tomorrow always had another excuse.

Finally, tomorrow had come. It was only a matter of a couple days and once it came I meant serious business. There were no more excuses and there were no more tomorrows. We have become Big Fat LOSERS but shall be no more! I have a dream that one day we shall see ourselves in the mirror as fine examples of healthy people! I have a dream that we shall walk tall in the shadow of the valley of death for we know that we take care of ourselves and treat our bodies like the only bodies we'll ever have! Because they are! I have a dream! I have a dream that one day our children will play soccer with other children and they will score many points because their parents were able to keep up during family-fun practices at Ann Morrison Park! I have a dream! I have a dream that the changes we make today will take us from being Big Fat LOSERS to being Big FAT Losers! I have a dream!

Well so far the plan has worked. We're going on 10 solid days now. I know it doesn't sound like a lot, but Rome wasn't built in a day either. And the slogan really is stellar motivation for us. Well, at least it gives me something to hold on to. Sometimes I suspect Kelly is just along for the ride because he's so good at humoring me. But that's all right...It's good for him.

Guess Who?

One of us - either Kelly or myself - went to the hospital today to check something out. The doctor deemed it necessary for the involved party to have an ultra-sound done. So now we're going to play a rousing edition of Guess Who? where I provide clues and you make a decision as to who needed the ultra-sound.

* The ultra-sound was performed on the patient's abdomen.

* It was the patient's first ultra-sound.

* The doctor visit and ultra-sound took a combined three hours.

* The ultra-sound was performed in conjunction with a blood-letting. Well, they drew blood to do some blood tests.

That's enough info for now. Feel free to ask questions for clarification on some points prior to making your educated guess.

Kelly's A Jerk

Here are some interesting statistics:

* The U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) estimates 35 to 50 million Americans come down with the flu each flu season, which typically lasts from November to March. More than 100,000 people are hospitalized and 20,000 people die from the flu and its complications every year.

* The SDA estimates that 76 million Americans get sick, more than 300,000 are hospitalized, and 5,000 die each year from foodborne illness.

* One in 10 hospitalized patients, or about 2 million people a year, will acquire an infection after admission. These infections contribute to the death of nearly 90,000 hospital patients per year, according to the CDC.

* Americans spend about $5 billion each year on colds - about $3 billion on doctors' visits and $2 billion on treatments.

I'm not saying that a little dirt will kill you. I'm saying that diseases and germs are easily spread. I'm saying that we can all do our part to slow that. I'm saying that things like West Nile and Salmonella do exist and that we shouldn't scoff at the mere possibility of becoming infected with such an illness. Yes, I'm aware that viruses change over time and that they are able to mutate themselves in a fashion that prevents them from being affected, much less killed, by antibiotics but does that mean that we should also stop testing for a cure for AIDS? I have a brilliant idea, Kelly, why don't we all go out and have random, unprotected sex with as many people as possible and then compare numbers of infectious diseases at the end of the month. It can be a fabulous contest to see who contracts AIDS first. Abstinence on any count is stupid, but so is reckless abandon. Why do something stupid when we can simply be proactive about it?

Whatever. I'm going to bed. You should take care of your dog.

Donate To Mandy

My good friend Mandy who lives near Denver, Colorado, is in the process of training for a marathon. She is also in the process of fundraising. How are these two related, you ask. Well, the money she raises will go to helping treat a 3-year-old girl with leukemia who also lives in the Denver area.

Mandy is raising money through Team in Training, a group funded by the Leukemia and Lymphoma society, and plans to run the Nike Women's Marathon in San Francisco on October 23, 2005. Mandy's goal is to raise $3,700 by that time, but she has currently only raised about $400 between working in a pharmacy, attending a pharmacology master's program and training for the marathon.

So I'm giving a little shout-out for Mandy, asking all my friends and family and in general just people who give a damn to check out her training blog (that I've linked to many times here as well as posted a link on my side bar) and give a little donation. She has information on her blog on how to donate online and where to check out Team in Training. Not only will your donation go to helping fund a little girl's treatment, but it will encourage Mandy to train harder and better for her 26-mile journey in October.

Extracurricular Activities

I think its about time for Kelly and I to invest in some sort of instructional lessons for our dog. Something to occupy his hands, preferably, like yoga, ASL, car mechanics or pottery - just to name a few ideas I've had lately. Whatever will keep his interest, really. I've even thought about the benefits that would come from putting him on some sort of sports team where he can get some social interaction at the same time that he's getting a lot of good exercise. Maybe soccer would be his cup of tea. He's just been so antsy lately and has found interest in chewing random things outside. For instance, last night he jumped up on the pool table and started chewing out the lining from one of the corner pockets. We are unimpressed.

Hays Marathon

Last night started my marathon at Hays. Here's my schedule to give you a taste:

Thursday 8-11 a.m. (that's yesterday's staff meeting)
Thursday 10:30 p.m.-7:30 a.m. (that's actually what I worked last night)
Friday 2:30-11:30 p.m.
Saturday 2:30-11:30 p.m.
Sunday 7 a.m.-4 p.m.
Sunday 10:30-7:30 a.m.
Monday 10:30-7:30 a.m.

Some of those shifts I'll actually get off a little early, but they all have the potential for me to stay much later. One Saturday night one of our girls got super sick and I had to take her to the hospital. I ended up staying on the clock until 2 a.m., only to return to work Sunday at 7 a.m. So, the potential is there on a few shifts for me to feel completely absent from home, especially since between a couple shifts I only have a couple hours anyway. Oh well. I volunteered for the last two shifts anyway since I'm going to Vegas next week. On a typical weekend, I do my 40 hours in a three-day period. Or at least most of my 40 hours. I say it's a good thing I enjoy my job because otherwise I would be one cranky individual.

London Terrorism

Here are some things that are bugging me about this London terrorism thing (in no particular order). Don't get me wrong...I think the whole ordeal is no good. I love Brits as much as the next person and wish no ill-timed, gruesome deaths upon any of them. There's just some stuff that has gotten me thinking.

* I heard a BBC reporter on the radio about 20 minutes ago talking about the scores of dead people turning up from the incident. The news on the radio had just confirmed 33 dead and a news report I just read on line confirmed 37 dead. That is not "scores." Why make it sound worse than it really is?

* I heard Tony Blair blaming middle eastern terrorist organizations in a public speech on the radio before the responsible party was confirmed.

* Tony Blair blamed middle eastern terrorist organizations for the attacks before ruling out the fact that some randomly bored high school students decided to pull a prank on the world. Because to make everyone think that you were a terrorist when you're nothing more than a spoiled, private school kid and have the prime minister of your country denounce to the world specific terrorist groups before he has a clue as to what he was talking about so he looks dumb to everyone later is kind of a good joke. It's definitely one I find amusing. I just think people like to yell "terrorist." Kind of like the boy who cried "wolf."

* Everyone thinks that these attacks have something to do with the Group Eight summit in Scotland. Just in case it has been a while since you've surveyed a map, London is not in Scotland. London isn't even all that close to Scotland.

* George Bush went on the record (as I heard him on NPR and found in this article) saying that this terrorist attack is a horrible thing. He said that it couldn't have come at a worse time. He said that it's awful that while leaders of different nations have joined together in Scotland for this peaceful summit, killers have taken innocent, civilian lives. Hmmm...Does he honestly think that? What about all the innocent, civilian lives lost - no, stolen - so far in Iraq? Doesn't he realize that what he accomplishes there daily through the American government and the American military is by definition terrorist activity?!? Or do they not count because they're brown? Or are the English lives worth more because he's buds with old Tony? Or is he only worried because he was in a neighboring country? My money's on brown.

* America - because we're constantly thinking ourselves the worldwide victim and because we have to be right in the middle of everything - is now at "orange alert." They raised the terror alert from yellow to orange today, but that only applies to mass transit systems. I can't wait to see how the bomb-sniffing dogs hold up the BUS. Maybe the powers-that-be are unaware that there's an entire ocean between us and London. And besides, if you keep an entire nation at heightened alert forever, doesn't that heightened alert become the norm? They will get so used to watching out for everything and seeing almost nothing that something little (that turns big) may slip right by them. (That's my budding philosophy.)

The System

This weekend, a girl from the shelter was placed with a new foster family. She has been at our shelter for about three weeks. Hays was meant for kids like her. She came in through the Department of Health and Welfare and spent three weeks with us while her case worker searched for a new home for her. Three weeks. We have a girl in there right now who has been there for around 220 days - more than seven months. Our program was not meant for that. We have another girl who has been with us for about 180 days - six months. Our program was not meant for that. Rather than being the safe, temporary holding spot we are meant to be, we have become an actual placement for these two girls. They have seen half the staff members turn over, have helped train every member of the new staff, and have been through numerous rotations of other residents. Everyone knows what it feels like to be on the playground waiting to be chosen for a team to play dodgeball or kickball, fearing you may just be the last one standing. Imagine the fear of being the last one standing when everyone is picking their families...and you just never get picked. Ever. These girls are now exhibiting extreme stress responses. They don't eat and when they do, they throw up. They're losing weight, hair, sanity. They give biting remarks to everyone. They're developing ulcers. Their posture worsens, they sleep during the day because at night they keep themselves awake crying. What's wrong with these girls? Nothing. They're just 16. Who wants a used kid?

This girl who was placed this weekend is also 16. She, however, has cognitive disorders that makes her act far younger. She is needy for attention (as many of these kids are), doesn't process well, wants nothing more than to make people happy (even if that means doing bad things to herself or to other people), and has poor hand-eye coordination and motor skills. One of the girls who has been at the shelter far too long is good in school, wants more than anything to graduate high school, loves children and animals and would like to work with them at some point, helps around the house with cooking and doing chores, carries great conversation, stands up for what she believes in, and wants a family more fiercely than any kid I've ever met. However, she also has a small record which includes assault. So on paper, she's a much less desireable addition to a family because that record is all they see - they never get a chance to see what she wants or needs or what she's interested in or how helpful she is.

They say "The System" is overworked. They say that all the case workers have huge case loads. They say that there's a lot of paperwork. You know what I say? Make it that difficult for people to have babies in the first place and you won't have this problem. Hold adults accountable for their actions, promote things like birth control - in all forms - and send everyone to parenting classes. Reduce severely the number of kids you place into "The System." So many of these kids were just born into bad situations. Mothers high on crack, cocaine, meth, pot, alcohol. Fathers high too. Or absent fathers. Mothers who started selling their 11-year-old girl's body for sex so that the mother may purchase drugs. Fathers who beat their son because he is gay. Fathers who beat their son because he brought home a C in school. Fathers who beat their son because the mother didn't come home one night. Mothers who tell their daughters "I don't want you." Fathers who tell their daughters "I can buy you any drug you want if you want to come live with me." These are people who should not have children. These are people who are not mature or responsible enough on their own to handle or care for another life. These are people ruining the lives of their children and the people around them (not to mention their own lives).

And so, since "The System" is overworked, we discover alternative methods of "helping" kids. We put teens in detention for smoking. We put them in detention for running away. If a child runs away from home, there is a problem that needs to be addressed that will not be addressed in detention. Either something is wrong at home or the kid is involved in something bad - most likely drugs, alcohol or some other illegal activity (gangs too). Why not investigate that? Why not help that kid? Why stick that kid in jail, priming them at a young age to know that jail is an alternative to life? Why not teach them to work through things? To see that life doesn't have to be all black and white choices, that there's more to good and evil than being angelic or being in prison? Why not help them through recovery, through high school, through counseling?

The current system doesn't do any of that. The current system gives them a shelter until someone speaks for them. The current system gives them just enough so they don't feel completely and utterly forgotten by the world. Because at least at a place like where I work we know their names and hold them accountable for coming back in the evenings sober and unarmed. I would like to say that the case workers help out with that, but sometimes that isn't even true.

Flips

Thursday mornings are our standard staff meeting days at Hays. At our meeting this morning, our program director spoke about staff dress code.

OK, first of all, let me describe what we do with the kids. We sit around the house talking with them, playing games and watching movies. We help them around the house with meal prep, cleaning up, doing laundry and completing other random household-type things. We take them on walks, to the movies, to walk around the mall, to play frisbee in the park, to museums and other various activities around town. We drive them to appointments and the like. We make sure they go to bed on time, get up on time, don't eat too much sugar, make sure they eat veggies and administer medications. This is my job. Sounds a lot like running a normal house full of seven teens, right? Well yea, because that's what I do.

So Pam has created a dress code. I have no problem with this. We can't wear see-through clothing. We can't wear tank tops thinner than two finger widths. We can't wear belly shirts. We can't wear clothing with inappropriate slogans (ie. slogans promoting drugs or alcohol). I have no problem with any of this. This is standard for any job or even school. This is what we hold the kids accountable to as well.

But then comes the clincher. We are unallowed to wear flips.

I don't understand.

She says it's a safety concern. However, we're not allowed to chase kids or put them in restraints.

She says we need to wear appropriate footwear for the activities we do with the kids. Well, when I go to the movies when I'm not at work, I usually wear flips. I don't have a specific pair of shoes for mall walking. And if we do any sort of hiking activity with the kids that I couldn't do in my flips, it's never a spur of the moment activity - it's always planned in advance.

She says it looks unprofessional. This is the one point I can almost agree with. However, when it is all right for my co-workers to wear sandals that attach to their feet - which is the Hays requirement of open-toed shoes - that look like they're eight years old, have been drug through the mud and run over by all eighteen wheels of a semi is when I stop. I think my new flips look nicer and more professional than some ratty old Birkenstocks. Or those river wading shoes that are all the rage now - humongous, rubber shoes?! One woman wears duck-hunting orange river waders to work. And those are more professional than my flips???

I brought up my points today at the staff meeting. Pam stuck to her guns, so I've got to give her that. Other staff say it's just because she doesn't like flips. Whatever. I don't like a lot of things that go on at the shelter but they seem to work out just fine. She told us that we just need to make good decisions about what we're wearing as professionals (in such the professional environment!) and not make her have to be the "bad guy."

I think it's all just lame.

Hurricane Lucille

She came on suddenly, like a bad blind date. She was about as real as a blind date as well; not really a hurricane, considering the locale and all.

There I sat in the Red Cross feeling dejected and disappointed that they didn't want me, couldn't use me, due to my unpredictable iron count. There she loomed on the horizon created by the neighborhood trees and next-door buildings clashing with the tumultuous sky. Her busty cloud formations overtook the space above while her loud voice boomed intermittently around us, threatening.

Without hesitation she came forth upon the earth in the form of millions of suicidal water droplets pounding to the pavement in sheets. Wind interceded with his mighty gust, waltzing through the parking lot outside the Red Cross window with the pieces of Lucille. The lights inside flickered only once, but it was enough to draw attention to the rendez-vous beyond the confines of our protective establishment.

Wind died down and left Lucille to her peace, to continue what she had started. Either that or she drove him away.

When she finished she left her reflection in the once-stormy sky, her mark of beauty over the damp and shaken land.

Could a blind date ever turn out better?

I'm Turning Japanese

Ha! I have that song in my head that goes "I'm turning Japanese, I think I'm turning Japanese, I really think so."

It's funny to me because I think I really am turning Japanese, like the title of this post suggests.

Well, maybe not Japanese per se, but at least Cuban or Samoan or something like that. Everyone thinks I already am ethnic, so I may as well be. Right?

Complaints

Generally when I read other blogs, the ones I notice that have a lot of comments on them are ones dedicated primarily to complaining about something. Take, for example, this blog written by a man who refers to himself as the Humanity Critic. Tremendous blog, written mostly in the direction of a black man's concerns about the current state of hip hop, but also contains some posts about politics and dating. He's funny with a wild imagination and a clear writing voice, all coming together to create something well worth reading. However, he's a complainer. He doesn't write about things like trips to Belize or his bored dog like yours truly. But ah, his reader base is huge, as they fill his comment box with sometimes more than 40 comments. His comments section is like a chatroom within a blog. I've stumbled upon knitting blogs where knitters do nothing but complain about their current projects. Blogs where people complain about dating. About not dating. Blogs about a bad sex life - seriously, solely dedicated to a bad sex life. What do these blogs have in common? People who like to give their two cents. People providing advice, encouragement, or people just jeering on the pissed off. If I were to complain about something here in my self-created little forum I would go the more social route. Not that I never do complain - because really, who doesn't from time to time? - just that I don't make it a regular habit. I realize there's much to complain about - from fighting in the Sudan to local injustices aimed at minority groups to large corporations exploiting slave labor overseas to the traffic department installing new stop signs in my neighborhood overnight - but I just tend to write more on bland topics like my bored dog. Maybe soon I'll become politically and socially motivated like I used to be not too long ago, once again feel connected to a greater power beyond my control but completely enraptured in its presence, and spew about it here. Until then, here's a wedding picture as a teaser for a kinder, gentler blog post yet to come...

E101 And My Dog

Since I'll be teaching ENGL101 this fall semester, I thought it a good idea to start reading about what I'll be doing to begin preparing for the task. All I have to say is how much I'm looking forward to it. I think that what I'm most looking forward to is how enriching of an experience this will be for me. Silly, maybe. Selfish, sure. Do I care on either account? Not really.

On to a completely unrelated topic...Can dogs be bored? I think Radley is bored. He's sitting in front of me, looking at me, trying not to fall asleep. Periodically he'll get up and walk around the house, stopping for a moment at the front door and then returning to my feet with his eyes half closed. He's not really interested in going outside or eating or napping. He hasn't touched any of his indoor toys. I think he's just bored. I'm going to take him for a jog. I think the exercise will be good for both of us.

Married Life

At some point I plan on posting some wedding photos on here as well. I guess I was just more excited about sharing the Belize pics. The wedding shots turned out great and all, but I am still just dragging my feet about it.

I think this post-wedding period is bigger for other people than for myself. Everyone keeps asking me what it's like to be married when the truth is that we've been living together now for six months so being married doesn't feel any different than life in general has for six months. Besides, the wedding was two weeks ago. Nothing about "married life" is going to be different within that time frame, especially when half of that time we were in Belize.

Also, people are making a huge deal out of the whole name-change-deal. The first thing that pisses me off is that people assume automatically that I'm changing my name. We received checks in the mail prior to the wedding addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. H." What a crazy complication that could have been! But it's an OK presumption with an appropriate title assigned to it. What sends me into fits are the items addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. K H." I have ceased to be recognizeable as a person. I am now solely "Mrs." I am no longer myself, I am now K's Wife. In getting married I did not disappear. I did not become someone else's second thought. In fact, I did decide to accept K's last name in the marriage process, but it was not an easy battle. And I do mean battle. I wasn't sure about the name deal because I had created myself under my maiden name and given to that name numerous degrees, recognitions and publications. I didn't (and still don't) think it fair that I should be expected to wrecklessly abandon all that just to wait in line at the social security office for an hour, leaving with a new alias. I don't think K had ever really thought about it before - about what all it entails to alter the one thing that has most defined you your entire life. At first he wanted to be able to pass on his family name and was very concerned about spreading that legacy, but later came to want something I view as more realistic - one family sharing a common name. He knew I held reservations about changing my name so he said he would just change his and become a "J." I let that be the case for a while before I told him that what I really wanted was to accept his name, that in making that choice I could find more to identify with than in my own last name. "J" always represented to me anonymity and in fact I actually had people ask me on more than one occasion if I was serious that that was my name. Sometimes I had to show them my ID before they would believe me. Maybe part of what makes "J" so anonymous is that I don't know anything about that side of my family. I've never seen pictures, I don't know their medical history and I've never been to their family functions. They are a nameless, faceless bunch to me. But with the "H" side of my family I know a good deal of that information. They also know me and welcome me - in a way no one from the "J" side of my family ever has.

Arg. I don't know really where this post began or where I expected it to wind up, but here we are. Basically, yea, married life is great. No, the romance isn't dead yet. No, we aren't having kids soon (sorry Liz). To answer another question asked recently - no, I don't regret it. Who would ask that - I know - awful question, but one I answered. In fact, my decision to be with K is one of the best decisions I've ever made and is probably the decision that has left me feeling most at peace with myself and the world.

Great Lakes, Illinois

My brother left a few days ago for basic training for the Navy. He's currently in Great Lakes, Illinois. I have to admit, I'm a little worried about him. But alas, it is too late to convince him of any other life plan. This is what he's been wanting for the last 13 years. And so, he's currently in the middle of being torn down by promoters of the current militant position who think that individuality is the key to world destruction. He's being forced to faithfully respect people he doesn't know and accept rules thrown at him arbitrarily. By the time this process is over he will think like them, speak like them, walk like them and cease to think on his own like them. I'm going to miss him...

Honeymoon 2005

Here's the view we had from our balcony at the resort. I think this was our first full day in Belize. From here you can see a white line along the horizon. Those are waves breaking on the reef, which is the second longest reef in the world and the first longest living. The reef breaks the waves so that by the time they reach the shore they just float in, rather than crash against the sand. Between the end of the dock and the reef is a highway for speedboats, which was our primary source of transportation for the week. Also here you can see a bunch of palms. It takes about 20 years for the trees to reach this height.



There were little lizards like this one all over the place...at the resort...at restaurants...in town...in the jungle. You name it.



This is us on the beach on a slightly rainy (but beautiful) day.



Sunrise in Belize, 5 a.m. precisely.



During sunrise a bunch of little fish were swimming near the dock so Kelly snapped some pictures of them. This is not with an underwater camera (those pictures will be developed later); the water was always this clear.



Us on a boat. Notice my hair flying about? Since we travelled usually by speedboat my hair was always pulled back and what could escape was always tangled and fuzzy.



On one of our speedboat excursions to get to a tour of the Belize mainland our boat had to pass through here. On either side are Mangrove trees that come up above forming a canopy.



Here's a better shot of the Mangrove trees. The roots are primarily exposed because they sit slightly above water. The limbs then grow roots that grow straight down toward the water from the limb. During the rainy season the water level raises about five feet, completely covering the roots.



This is the eastern freize of a Mayan ruin at Xunantunich (shoe-non-too-neech). We climbed this temple that was originally built only for royalty and priests.



Super cool pic of the two of us atop the temple at Xunantunich. This is 135 feet above plaza level. If you look over to the left you can see a road that (through the optical illusion of photography) runs right into my left side. This road creates the border between Belize and Guatemala. So there's actually two contries shown in this photograph!



This is a typical street in San Pedro, the town on Amergris Caye (the island our resort was on). You may notice the bright colors of the buildings - this was common for all buildings as well as homes there. Also, dirt roads...their paving system isn't what you would call "good." Their main mode of transportation in the town (as opposed to between towns or resorts, which is by speedboat) is by bicycle or golf cart, both of which you can see here.



Here's one of the schools in San Pedro, called San Pedro Roman Catholic Primary School. Surprisingly, we saw a lot of schools - more than we had anticipated seeing. Even in some very small communities, we saw two or three schools. Children in all schools no matter the size of the community are taught both English and Spanish because those are the two national languages. Most of their schools are RC because that's the primary religion of the region. Their school operates on roughly the same calendar as here in America.



These are some school-aged girls in their school uniforms. All the schools in Belize require uniforms regardless of its status as either public or private. If your parents cannot afford to buy you a proper uniform, you cannot attend school.



More Mayan ruins...This is the Mask Temple at Lamanai. The guide said that whenever you see advertisements for Belize or Mayan ruins and there's a picture of a large face, you're looking at this ruin because this is the largest mask (on the right side) they have ever discovered. This mask is over five feet tall.



And because my blog is never complete without a picture of me and Kelly being cozy...

You Better Belize It

Well we're home. No time to catch up on everything now, so here's a quick recap. Everything was beautiful. We swam with sharks and rays, snorkeled, went tubing on an underground river, saw Mayan ruins, ate a lot of sea food, became friends with some locals and learned a lot about the country. Electricity was non-existent for part of the time we were there and satellite was almost never up, the water tasted salty and smelled like perm solution (so we drank bottled all week), we sweat a lot and paid tourist prices for everything. It was one of the best vacations I've ever been on! Will share pictures in due time...