After graduating from Swarthmore College in 2010 with a BA in Urban Studies and a BS in Engineering, I am traveling through Latin America and Africa completing a Watson Fellowship project entitled School Bus Migrations.
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After Belize City was leveled by Hurricane Hattie in 1961, government officials began planning a new seat of government. The initial phases of Belmopan, Belize’s capital city, were constructed between 1967 and 1970. To me, the resulting master-planned city of 16,000 people felt the closest to Woodbridge or a college campus that I’ve been since leaving home.
A highlight in Belmopan was my research at the national archives. The staff there pulled up a couple of great reports on buses for me, one of which was a Masters Geography thesis from 1989 entitled “50 Years of Buses: A Case Study of the Bus System in Belize, Central America.” It was fascinating to read this report and consider how the system had changed (and, in some cases, remained the same) during the course of my life.
An interesting facet of the Belmopan Bus Terminal was the prevalence of signs reading “No Standees Permitted.” While a nationwide law prohibits standees on buses, this bus terminal is the only place I have seen it enforced. One of the concessionaires in the terminal even takes it upon herself to warn passengers of the surprising enforcement, shouting “push your way through the boarding gates and to the bus, otherwise you won’t get a seat and you won’t get a ride” when buses pull in. Indeed, Belmopan is the only city in which a government Terminal Management Unit employee boards each bus before departure and ensures all passengers are seated. Being in geographical proximity to the seat of government seemed to increase concerns with the law and government regulations. Yet this effect also seemed to have quite a limited radius; once the buses left the terminal and headed towards the Western and Hummingbird Highways, they stopped to pick up numerous standees.
Holding the fruits of my research at the National Archives
In Belize, I had the opportunity to meet Juan Guerrero, an artisan boatbuilder. Since he was 14, he has been taking locally harvested timber and transforming it into beautiful sailboats in the town of Sarteneja. Located in the northeast tip of Belize, Sarteneja was historically a fishing village and is still home to many of the country’s small boatbuilders. Quite a few of the sailboats I saw in Belize City and Caye Caulker had their origins in Juan Guerrero’s workshop.
The lifecycle of these sailboats presents an interesting contrast to the typical lifecycle of the buses I’m studying. Instead of being produced from thousands of anonymous industrial parts on an assembly line, these sailboats are uniquely crafted from various local woods by one craftsman in his backyard. Instead of heading south like the old school buses, the boat I saw being manufactured was, according to the wishes of its future captain, going to head north making no/low-emission trips to Cuba ferrying organic produce grown around Sarteneja.
At 8:00 this morning, I’ll be starting an intermediate Spanish class. After four years of having to drag myself out of bed on this day of the year, I seem to have been conditioned to report to a classroom despite my supposed freedom from Swarthmore. For the first time in four years, I didn’t spend the last night of my summer vacation watching The Graduate; though I have to admit having some delicious cerdo asado y gallopinto with friends here in Managua is an excellent substitute tradition.
I’m now in Managua, but I’ve left my blog updates behind in Northern Belize. I’ll catch up this week, when I find time in between my homework and twenty hours of classes.
In Corozal, I was able to get a tour of the Gilharry/Venus Bus Lines shop from the owner’s son. Talking with him, and interviewing the owner a couple days later, gave me a great sense of the history of passenger transportation in Belize. I’ll publish highlights from that interview soon. In the meantime, here are some pictures of the older buses that are kept at the shop for parts.
I enjoyed my visit to the ruins at Lamanai, the original name of which, Lama’anayin, means submerged crocodile. Once a city of about 35,000 people, Lamanai survived the economic collapse of the Classical Mayan civilization around 900 A.D. and was still an important commercial hub when the Spanish invaded.
From Orange Walk Town, I took a 90 minute boat ride up the New River, enjoying the sights of birds, iguanas, and spider monkeys. The sound of Howler monkeys (and swarming mosquitoes) greeted us when we docked at Lamanai. Our guide Wilfredo, from Jungle River Adventures, was excellent. As a trainer who had instructed many of the other guides there, he gave detailed explanations of the site’s architectural features, cultural background, and monumental engravings. Part of the Mask Temple had just been renovated and revealed to the public. Most of the massive site is still buried under dirt and trees that grow quickly in the tropical climate, and archaeologists estimate it would cost $70 billion to unearth the whole city. Even so, the excavated parts were impressive. Unfortunately, a thunder storm made it imprudent to climb the High Temple (though others decided to take the risk), but everything else was great.
A highlight of my time in Corozal was a visit to one of the District’s hand-cranked ferries. I was particularly interested in seeing a school bus make the crossing. After talking with some local residents, I understood that the bus from Corozal Town to Copper Bank would leave at 7:00 AM and travel the 5 km to the ferry, from which I could walk back to town. Matthew, a fellow traveler I met in Belize City, and I made it to the town square a bit before 7:00, but the Lino’s Bus we were looking for was nowhere to be found. So we decided to walk out to the ferry.
After we had walked for about half an hour, around the corner ahead of us turned the Lino’s Bus we had been looking for, going the opposite direction into Corozal. I figured it was running late because of muddy roads, and that we would be able to hop on it when it returned to Copper Bank. By 9:15, having endured much mud and little shade, we made it to the Pueblo Nuevo Ferry.
I asked one of the ferry workers who was leaving his shift what time the bus would be returning, and he replied, “about 10:30.” So we decided to wait and watch vehicles cross the river for an hour, during which time we nourished some mosquitoes and helped push a stalled Volkswagen Jetta up onto the ferry.
At 10:30, David, the other ferry worker (who works a twelve hour shift, from 6:00 AM to 6:00 PM), came over to us and asked what we were waiting for. I told him about my project and how I wanted to see the Copper Bank bus crossing back over. “You’re going to be waiting a long time; it doesn’t come back until 7:30 tonight,” he responded. He then explained that the Lino’s Bus driver had indeed come back across on the ferry a couple minutes before; unless there was a large crowd needing to get to Copper Bank in the morning, the driver usually left the bus in town and hitchhiked home for lunch.
We laughed at all of the misunderstandings about times, helped crank the ferry back to the Corozal side, and caught a ride back to town in the bed of a pickup truck.
Shipstern Nature Reserve was an easy trip from my lodging in Sarteneja. I made it there by 8:00, but this was too long after sunrise to see any of the toucans I had hoped to see. Most of the trails were closed because of mud, but the butterfly house and 60 ft. observation tower made the trip well worth the walk.
Pupae at Shipstern Nature Reserve
Caterpillar at Shipstern Nature Reserve
View of Chetumal, Mexico, from Shipstern’s Observation Tower
The Port bus is a slow, bumpy, muddy ride during the rainy season and a great example of the durability of these old buses (and their riders). A 1994 Blue Bird transit style was making the run on the day I rode, one day after some moderately heavy rain. Once we crossed to the west of Central America Blvd., many stretches of the route were more water than road. The bus avoided getting stuck, since there seemed to be enough gravel under the ponds, but it was a slow trip.
Carlos (see below) explained that over the past few years, a government sponsored dredging project at Belize City’s southern deepwater port has interfered with drainage in the surrounding residential areas. Currently, cruise ships dock offshore east of the city, and their passengers are ferried to the shallow Tourism Village dock on smaller boats; with sufficient dredging, the cruise companies will be able to save their customers time and money by docking directly at the city’s southern port.
The motto of Caye Caulker, a small island with about 1300 residents, is “Go Slow.” People abide by this motto in their eating, socializing, and driving. Other than a few pickup trucks that haul lumber and garbage, and a small tractor used by the local Coca Cola distributor, the only vehicles on the island are bicycles and old golf carts. Even if they were not limited by the golf carts’ top speed, island drivers would be encouraged to go slow by Caye Caulker’s rope speed bumps and two traffic police officers.
The Go Slow modus vivendi, although not explicitly extolled, seems to be present in Belize City as well. Buses and water taxis often run slightly behind schedule (if they have one at all). Instead of using established stops, many Belize City buses will stop wherever a passenger is waiting. When I rode the bus back from Ladyville, the bus made multiple stops literally twenty feet apart. To me, it would make sense for passengers waiting so close together to gather in one place, so that the bus would only have to stop once; but maybe such an increase in efficiency is not in keeping with the Go Slow philosophy.
Unlike in Belize City, Caye Caulker’s pedestrians and stray dogs are relatively safe from traffic. Sand crabs seem to compose the bulk of the island’s traffic fatalities. I talked with the owner of one of the island’s golf cart rental shops. The carts are bought used from the United States, and the total cost for each cart, including transportation to the island and import duties, runs to about $4000. Even with the cost of replacing corroded parts with new parts ordered from the United States, these expensive carts can be a sound investment. The plastic bodies can last more than eight more years after being purchased used, and rental agencies can charge steep prices to the tourists for whom walking around the island is too slow.
Below are some more pictures from Caye Caulker. If you’re reading this post in your email inbox, it may be easier to browse through the pictures by clicking on the title of this post to view it in your internet browser.
Golf cart repair shop
Coca Cola bottles are delivered by tractor on Caye Caulker
Golf cart rental facility
Golf cart and frigate birds at the Lazy Lizard
‘Go Slow – We have two cemeteries and no hospital’
Dogs are safe from being turned into roadkill. Crabs are not.
Drivers are prohibited from operatng vehicles on the airstrip runway