Bicycles are almost as good as guitars for meeting women

My friend Gilbert enjoys communicating with a combination of sound effects and pantomime.  25 years old, eager to learn new skills and see new places.  Just one of the many good-natured and personable need greaters we've gotten a chance to know in Belize. 

Placencia is a small town but trudging up and down the streets time and again can get a little tiresome.  Thus when your friend Gilbert says that he knows a guy in Dangriga who can get us a deal on a bicycle for 110 Belize (55 US dollars), your ears perk up.  Soon thereafter, myself, Ian, Gilbert, and Carl and Matthew, the Brits as they are affectionately known, board the 1:00 PM bus to Dangriga at about 1:20 (that's how things work here).  The bus chugs along weaving it's way north for a couple hours.  A simple ride with no bicycles.

We arrive in Dangriga and meet up with Eli and Dave, a couple of laid back need greaters from the East coast, USA.  From Connecticut but they remind me of some SoCal surfers.  As soon as we enter the main city street, Charley, a local Garifuna, comes up to see who the new guys in town are.  Eli tells him we're with him, subsequently Charley leaves us alone.  Eli explains Charley is not a bad guy, he's just an opportunist, and is always aware of an opportunity to hustle a gringo.

We go to the meeting in Dangriga. It's our first meeting in a Kingdom Hall since we've been here, because in Placencia we meet in the local community center.  The humidity in the Kingdom Hall is comparable to a steam room but you can feel the energy and positivity throughout. Apparently this energy has broken more  than half the fans, it's just that powerful.  Dangriga English, a congregation of about 100, a combination of need greaters, special pioneers, and locals. They are already having a Saturday and Sunday meeting and soon they will be splitting, now that the Jacobs, a special pioneer couple from Belmopan have arrived. The Jacobs are from California but have been in Belize for 8 years. 

The next morning as we leave the service group, Brother Jacobs pounds his chest twice and says "Respect brothers".  Wow, I ponder, even the white people are cool here.  In the ministry I work with a brother who moved here from Canada 3 years ago with his family.  He has 9 Bible studies right now, because that's all he has time for.  I'm a little nervous as I take my first door, but I muster it up, and call out "Hello . . . Morning!" from the bottom of the stairs as is the custom.  The somewhat dilapidated house is about 8 feet off the ground, on stilts providing shade for the dogs and the drunks.  

"I'm busy right now, sorry", she says from the door.  Sounds like the states, the difference is the person here is most likely legitimately busy.   "Should I come back?"  I ask.  "Yes, come back in 20 minutes please".  We circle the block talking to a few people.  Strangely almost everyone seems to be busy this morning but one lady cooking fish talks to us for a bit.  She studied in the past and even went to the meetings some.  So we invite her to the meeting on the weekend. She says she'll be there. 

Making our way back to the busy lady, we call up again, "Hello. . .  Good morning!" She invites us up.  I start my presentation in the Truth tract, and read Psalm 37:10, 11.  She listens very attentively, and I ask her if she'd like to learn more.  She says yes.  And before I can offer she asks, "Can someone study the Bible with me?"  We go and find sister Jacobs.  I introduce them and they set up a time to meet in a couple days.  As we leave, the householder (whose name has escaped me, granted this was a couple weeks ago) says, "you really made my day, today" with a big smile on her face.   She made ours as well. 

Service is over, we've had our siesta, we've gotten our bicycles, it's time to go home.  It's an interesting feeling going home to Placencia.  Leaving it and coming back, is the first time, for me at least that it has really felt like home.  Maybe that's typical.  

There is the less then trivial matter of getting the bikes back on the bus.  These buses don't exactly have bike racks.  After cramming, scrunching, folding, bunching, climbing and situating the three of us (the Brits took a different bus) and the three bikes into the back of the bus; we sit, cozy and content.  As the sky darkens and the air cools Gilbert and Ian discuss; well things I suppose, I wasn't really paying attention.  Opposite them I stare out my window, watching the Mayan villages and banana plantations fly by.  The beauty of the evening makes it easy to reflect on how privileged we are to be here right now. Riding on possibly the same bus I went to the zoo in when I was in the 4th grade, surrounded by good friends, and sporadically colored beach cruisers.  That "journey is the destination" thing is kind of making sense these days. 

Gilbert's mad skills

In case there was doubt, yes I am a Nerd!

Good thing Ian is too :)