Things for December

So I am supposed to write about feet, thanks Joey.

For those of you who don't know, Joey is our intern here, a Jewish girl from New York, vegetarian, and someone who gets mad because I won't allow her to celebrate Christmas...damnit that is OUR holiday. She is cool though, just turned 20 (ha ha no longer a teen) and keep me laughing all day. She wanted to know if I had a blog, because let's face it, I am pretty funny when I rant about stupid shit, like dumb people on the phone or on the emails, or creepy people on Facebook, no names called. But I cannot rant or talk about feet at length, so gotta find something else.

Gangnam Style anyone? Yes even Madonna did it, and I cringed....I was NOT fond of that. What is it with these fads that catch on so easily? And so many people latching on to it, trying to make themselves cool? Or thinking you are awesome if you blare it loudly on bad speakers on the back of a bus all the way from the Mexican border to Belize City? Yeesh! This song needs to disappear and take One Direction and Carly Rae Jepsen with it....KPOP will always be annoying, I never loved it in Taiwan, I will not like it now, and I will not dance to it, no matter how much I drink or how much cocaine I snort.

No Joey, more women should NOT be working at Subway, they take long enough to serve people at times, all we need are gossipy people with bad weaves taking too many bathroom breaks and catching pms once a week, to slow things down even further.

I am running out of ideas? Guess being in love makes you not notice all the crap in the world as much as you use to. Gotta thank my lil elf for that....so until next time, well...

Bad music and other business

I don’t know what to bitch about today. It’s been a while. There is a lot that ticks me off, from the constant crime, to revolving door prisons, cost of living increasing, bonehead celebs, and just plain dumb people that irritate the hell out of me. And if that was not bad enough, has some creepy person calling again and again, having no idea who it was. “Why don’t you track the country code,” thank you Sylvia, lol….and yeah, Singapore…must be the mafia or some poor lonely fool who think stalking is the way to win my heart.

 

Ahh well. So let’s get into the September spirit and be a patriot and feel glad and proud to live in Belize, our wonderful little jewel, undiscovered and unspoiled, pristine, glorious, land of the free, a melting pot, and just really nice and friendly. Listen to the wonderful carnival songs about how we all come together as a wonderful people and nation, it’s time to celebrate our independence and jump and be free.

 

 

 

 

Of course those of you who know me have figured out the previous paragraph was dripping with disdain and sarcasm, I think I threw up a little.

 

Ok, so now on to music. Let’s start local before I tackle the evils of world music. On the news last night, some girl from Corozal was showing her music video, about September, about Belize. It was original, I swear. Belize flag waving, wonderful Caribbean or soca beat and rhythm, lyrics about her wonderful country, people coming together, I almost cried…..oh wait……wonder where I heard that before? How about every damn September? I swear, if it is not about how much we love this land, it’s about “di youth dem” and TBH, as people write these days, it gets tiresome. How about something new and refreshing that is NOT about swaying coconut trees, or how much you love the ‘mami’ (backed up by very generic reggaeton beats) or about the poverty and the youths on drugs?

 

And no, do not tell me “Can you do better?” I don’t sing, never said I could. But if you gonna make music and the videos that go along with them, how about something that sounds new with a video that does not include the quintessential dancing girls on a dock, or some reggaeton copy with bad autotune only dancing by waving his hands back and forth with some girl in the background pretending the water or the beach is really that interesting?

 

 

 

I dunno. I think I did enough for today. Gonna leave bashing Be the Next Superstar for another rant.

No tyrants here linger, despots must flee

Prison must be good. Meals provided, skills learned, bonds for life made. People think prison is scary. I am sure it is. But walking home at 7pm and watching the shadows and looking over your shoulder is scary. Walking to the bus terminal after work and thinking the next person you see is gonna rob you, that is scary. Worrying that every sound you hear at night, that every time the dog barks it is signalling an impending home invasion, causing you to lose sleep and look haggard the following day, now that is scary.

Step right up folks, get your front row seats for the scariest thing on TV these days, the evening news in a small country called Belize, a country desperately trying to hold on to the boast of being a peaceful jewel. Our economy is going downhill, poverty and unemployment up at alarming rates, and it seems that each crime is not trying to outdo the previous ones in terms of how much ratings they can get on TV.

Should we boost tourism by opening the country as a hunting ground for humans? Or perhaps sell packages for random gun violence? I am sure many gun toting loons would love that, to be allowed free range to come and shoot as they please, and the cannibals could then finally enjoy the hunt and eat their kill. Gruesome huh? If that makes you uncomfortable, you have not seen the news. Keep watching. Eventually you become so desensitized, that the news is truly shocking only when something good happens, and these days that is as rare as getting white sugar without all the fibres in it….

So here is an idea. Perhaps they should build a secure prison and have all the law-abiding citizens move in. Let the criminals have the country. If we are in prison we know we shall be safe in there knowing the criminals are outside that big wall with razor wire. I mean living outside those walls do not give much comfort anyway, we live in a prison of fear and mistrust anyway. We fear the criminals. We fear Guatemala taking us over. We fear the government will continue to mess the country up. We fear the police and BDF because it seems they are in on it. So, at the end of the day, who do we turn to? Are things so bad now that we shall soon have to pray to god for a flood to wipe us all away again? Excuse me while I draft some blueprints for an ark now….it is coming….

Thanks for the prayers, but no thanks

Many people could not sleep last night. For some it was the heat. It was so damn hot and not everyone can afford to have an air conditioning unit in their homes. Some people rely on fans alone. My fan is like  a jet engine, loud and blows so powerfully I have to tuck the sheets in to make sure they do not blow away.

Still, some people, myself included, could not sleep for another more sinister reason.

Yesterday, our nation was shocked, yet again, at the brutal murder of an innocent child. When the news hit, people cried, people got angry. People wanted to pray. Best use those goddamn hands to make justice work instead of being on your knees praying. Prayers did not help the child go home, or help the police find her in time. Prayers will not help find her killer. Investigation will. Prayers will not rehabilitate the killer. A noose around his neck will. So, stop praying for the children being killed in our country. Does not seem to do jack shit. Want results? Do something.

Tell those pompous idiots from Belize Action to take all the money they are getting to fight gay people into possible investing in better crime investigation for our very under prepared police. Instead of people worrying who I am sleeping with, is it not better to band together to make sure we have a country worth living in?

Now before any of you sanctimonious pious people tell me I have gone too far in my words, maybe I have not gone far enough. Maybe it is time to stop being nice about all this and pretending like praying is gonna save us. We pray to feel good that we sit back and do nothing, thinking that if we pray, then at least we tried. Tell that to the families of those victims. Tell that to the victims themselves, how sorry you are that your prayers were not heard in time.

Want results? Do something. Better police training, better investigation, better use of resources, that is what we need. Do we want to feel trapped in our own country? Should we always feel fear that our children will not come home? What happens if we all leave to find a more peaceful place to live? Then this Belize you are all praying for, will cease to exist. Don’t bother praying for me either, tried and failed method. I will continue to say what I damn well please.

September Celebrations, Belize - What's the fuss?

So September approaches. Soon it will be time for the same songs we hear every year, that as a kid use to instil me with pride and excitement. Soon there would be parades and fireworks and floats and festivals. September is the month we celebrate the anniversary of our independence from Britain, and the anniversary of the Battle of St. George’s Caye, a fight where the British settlers and slaves banded together to tackle the incoming Spanish. All has a nice movie ring to it right? Every year, there is also a theme to go along with it, something proud and patriotic. Every year the theme gets worse and more comical, but not for the reason you think. The words are ok, the idea is good, it’s just not real.

They usually sound something like this:

"Our Heritage, Our Cultures -- Living and Celebrating in Unity and Peace"

"Building on Heritage, Renewing our Identity -- Living Anew... Celebrating with Pride!"

Oh but those are so nice and make you feel proud to be Belizean. Truth is, they do not really reflect the country as it is. Nobody wants to be the Debbie Downer, and in Belize there is a disease the people have, where they think so many true things, but are scared to speak it because it might be controversial or unpopular. Well, thank god you have me right?

My ideas for themes this year include:

“Belize at 31 and on life support.”

“Belize at 31 – Busy praying the gay away to combat violence.”

“Our heritage and cultures – Trying in vain to polish that faded jewel.”

So go ahead all of you living in delusion and still wanna march and wave your little flags, go ahead and call me unpatriotic. You know damn well I am right. Belize is going to hell in a hand basket. Makes you wonder if we should hand ourselves over to Guatemala or give ourselves back to England. Obviously we are doing a piss poor job of showing how proud we are as a nation, simply be refusing to love each other, be proud of each other, stop killing each other, and something as simple as not throwing fucking trash everywhere.

Go ahead, let the hate mail come.

Sometimes one does get writer's block. There are many things happening that one can write about, but the inspiration is not there. People just don't read or don't care, and the world keeps on spinning anyway. When there is a lot buggin you, what do you write about? About how tactless a Belize media house can be to have a sponsor mention after a murder report? About someone who does his more than fair share of ass kissing and his very presence and voice irritates you? How stupid people like Pastor Stirm and Louis Wade still wanna butt their nose into something that is none of their goddamn business? Or just how stupid humanity can be in general at times? See, so many topics, no inspiration to write on any of them...it's no wonder my poetry book has been empty these days...sometimes...I just get tired of caring and trying...

But as soon as you wanna throw in the towel, you realize, people do look up to you, and if you quit, what example are you setting? And if you do complain about how ignorant people are, is it not your calling, then, to help wake them up? I believe so...

My confession

It's been a long time coming. I think this confession is even more momentous that the "I'm gay" speech I never gave, and a lot more horrendous to some people. But, after examining my beliefs, looking at evidences, and listening to various points of view, I have come to a very distinct conclusion that has not made my mother happy, and has some people trying harder for my conversion, praying for me, and even wishing to burn me at the stake. No, it's not witchcraft even though that is reason enough to link me to Satan. It's not another religion either. I am.....an atheist.


Of course to those of you who know me well this is hardly a shock. It's an affirmation of beliefs you have known me to share for a while. My mother still insists deep down I believe. Maybe that is because of the programming I received from my grandparents, my highschool and even junior college. But it is also these elements that have helped me come to this conclusion. But don't blame them alone, they had help from the world around me, in helping me realize, the very idea of some all knowing, all powerful, all loving god, is just....well.....a fairytale.

And being gay has nothing to do with it, because there are plenty of gay Christians still suffering for their beliefs. I am not a Satanist, for there is no god, there can be no anti-god. People will tell me yes there is a god, and their proof is a 2000 year old book, that itself is full of contradictions and immorality and should never be used to prove there is a loving god anywhere. "The evidence is all around you" is such an old line. I do see evidence. Famine, drought, violence, and millions of prayers unanswered in the very lame conclusion that god works in mysterious ways.

I gave religion a try, several actually, but the more I tried, the more I realize they are based on a book from which they pick and choose the laws to follow, and because of many religions we have as much violence and prejudice in the world today. People blame atheists for evil, because we believe in no god at all. Do we need to believe in god to be good? We have inherent morality, and that is good enough for us. But, I will humor you anyway if you come to talk about god and the bible....what can I say, it is as entertaining as Harry Potter, without the magic wands.

The curse of the know it all

Some people know it all. They don't need help because they can do it all. Most of the time, they truly do suck at what they do, but think it is pure gold. I know that I know a lot, and most of what I do know, is from my own experience, and because I like to read. I am not afraid to live. There are some things I refuse to do because I have done it already and found it to be tedious, or boring, or just dangerous, such as riding a ferris wheel or eating wasabi. But there are those people who can do it all, and have done it all, so they know it all.

My job requires me to be many things, from a grunt down in the dirt digging, to hauling stones and walking through mud, and also as a spokesperson for the institute, to share ideas, to educate, to shine, and be part of a machine, where I am no greater than the other nuts and bolts. But some people seem to think, that being in the office and working on events and speaking to the public has no business in archaeology. But why bother with the archaeology bit if no one knows what or why we are doing it? We are not grave robbers anymore, and archaeology has become a business in Belize, and we are the face of that business, and the voice...some of us have nicer faces and voices....

So to you, big mouth, know it all, let us assure you, we are not scared of our job. Sometimes we cannot go places because there are things that need to get done ASAP in the office, things that you are too green to handle, or simply lack the people skills to comprehend. You do not work alone, you are not better than us, even if you think you are. We are equal, even if we do different things. Sometimes your ideas are not wanted, so best do us all a favor, keep your damn mouth shut.

Click if you love Jesus

Click to save your soul, click to show your love for Jesus and hate for Satan. Yes. I am sure all of you have seen that picture on Facebook demanding you click and share and like if you want to be saved from the warming features of fire and brimstone. So those of you who don’t click, guess I’ll see you in hell. I did not click, not because I don’t love Jesus, but because I don’t need to click to show it. God does not like a public show-off, remember?

So, I decided to become the anti-like person. I challenge people to find the ‘I love Satan’ button to click, and would you believe, there is none? So I posted a picture of the Last Supper, altered slightly…and people thought me evil, and “not nice” and even though I did not ask people to click like or dislike, I still got “major dislike” and “you should repent.” Is it my fault your faith is so shaky that seeing a picture you don’t like of Jesus makes you feel weak?

It’s funny how people get upset over me posting something unflattering of Jesus, all in the name of supposedly loving Satan. I am not a Satanist. But if I was I would love the option of being able to share that openly without being ridiculed. How can these ‘Christians’ get so pious when they also eat cows (a symbol for the Hindus, I think, of something holy) and even close their doors to missionaries of another doctrine who are simply spreading the word of the same man they call god?

So excuse me if you don’t like me posting pics on Facebook you don’t like. Too damn bad. As long as there are people ‘liking’ Jesus on Facebook and shoving their religion in our faces, get used to be doing the same to you, shoving my ideas in your face.

Yearning for the 'attainable'

I feel like running from my feelings. It’s something I do always. I avoid feeling, I run from emotions. It makes you weak. But I met someone I want to be weak for.  I would wait for him. I would wait, which is something I never do, but sometimes you meet someone that you know is the jackpot, the sure thing, everything in your blood and bones tells you so. Even in dreams that person can make you sigh and make your tremble. If you have never felt that, I can only pray that you will, it makes everything hard you have ever been through seem worth it, to have gotten you to this point, where life finally seems possible.

Does not seem like me does it? Normally I would rant on people being idiotic and idealistic, for falling into the traps of emotion and having no logic. I shunned such people and called them morons. Now I look at what I am doing through, and can see how strong emotions are and what they can do to you.

Normally the advice I give to my friends comes from experience, in being cold and practical. But now I would not even take my own advice, and live in regret. It will hurt when he leaves, something I have no choice in, but I would rather have those moments so at least I have the memory.

On crushes, love and other matters

Today dawned too early. I was not ready to get up. Having spent many hours playing Just Dance on Saturday nite into the wee hours of Sunday morning, my body aches. I am not one for dancing, never have been. But I wanted to loosen up, and make a certain someone very happy…and when you have a major crush on someone, you do what you do to impress them. I am not a dancer at all, and I was sure that was not gonna impress anyone, but just the attempt spoke volumes.

San Pedro is a cool place after all. I have some cool friends that live there, there are cool places to drink, and the wind seems to always blow. I did not go there to drink and enjoy the wind, of course. I went chasing a dream, one I hope shall still come true, even if it is wishful thinking.  Sometimes though, you gotta screw logic and have faith in fate, and just hope it turns out. At least you can always say ‘you tried’ which is better than doing nothing. If I could chase my musketeer around the world, I would.

Sometimes I detest the fact that humans were given free will, because we have to make tough choices and live with anxiety and consequences. We should have been like animals, and live by instinct only and just follow a simple chain of activities. But there are times, when I am glad I do have free will, for free will gives rise to the glory of emotions, and feelings, the best of them being love and desire for someone else, that though they consume your very thoughts and plague your mind every second awake, it’s a disease you readily welcome, for it’s a promise of perhaps a chance to be happy.

There are people out there that I have spoken to, who are scared to fall in love or even try, some who say they don’t believe in love and shall never fall in love. Heartbreak is too painful, people cheat, things happen. I have been through heartbreak. It truly does hurt. But there was a time when I felt nothing, for no one, including myself. And let me tell you, I would rather be wallowing in the pit of despair that comes from heartache, than be upon an island alone and feeling like a zombie. Feel love. Go for love. It can bring such joy. It can also bring pain. But the pain is worth it, when you feel that something in your stomach, your heart, your skin, that something that one person can bring to you.

TGIF?

Let me being this with a somber note. There a little premature baby somewhere fighting for its life. We can do plenty to save it, by licking 'like' on Facebook. The more likes we click, the more chance this baby has of surviving. Lets show our love. Lets show we care. Lets save little baby Joe or Jane.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Well folks it's Friday. Another day of people sharing bullshit on Facebook, people being too happy and cheerful at -8am on Twitter (yes that is a negative sign you see there to indicate exactly how ungodly an hour it was), and people getting ready to toss off the shackles of being drones and drinking enough honey for themselves to flatter their egos as queens.

The flu is kicked...gone to wherever flus go when the die, and I am looking forward to a nice weekend, heading out to San Pedro to see my musketeers. And as I pondered that happy note, my day was ruined by National Cleavage Day...not that I don't like cleavage, but some heathen just posted Kim Kardashian's cleavage, as if we don't see enough of her, and were trying to sweep her back under the rock that she hatched under. Well, such is the world it seems, so maybe it's best to allow it to suffer and burn for idolizing such empty headed ninnies.

With that in mind, I will go throw up now....just as I thought there was hope for civilization.....

The few things

Sometimes its all one can do to wake up in the morning. The day looms ahead with promise of the same dreary vision, just linger long enough to get through the day, get home, and back to bed. Some days are just uninspiring. So why even bother getting up? The coffee does not do it anymore, the reruns are the same even if I wish for different endings, the cats and birds make the same noises, the bus to work is the same. Then the miseries of the day before that have not fully healed come back to haunt a head already full of local demons. Is it any wonder I have not shot myself yet?

 Oh yeah....I don't have a gun....

So how does one move on then? There are somethings that do help to make the day worth it, to push on and fight for life and light even when the day seems evil (I like evil, but not when it happens to me). It starts for me on the bus ride to work. Now if you saw me on the bus, ever, you would call me cold, asshole, all manner of rude things. Even if I know you, even if we are best friends or lovers, I will not acknowledge you on the bus. Its not your fault, or mine. By the time I get on the bus I have headphones stuck in my ears with the day's musical selection, and my brain is far from Belize and lost in the beat and lyrics. Music....is my Jesus.

Then there are the people who make that day worth it. My mother is the first....making my lunch (making the whole house smell of bacon by the way) and feeding the cats and cursing at them, and bringing my coffee though I grumble like a hungry ogre...you think Shrek is bad? Then the folks at work, that enjoy my music, put up with my ranting and sarcasm, and the ones I text and chat to, all the down off the coast of Placencia, to the beaches of San Pedro, to the hustle and bustle of San Ignacio. They get me, like my musings, and appreciate my uniqueness.

And by uniqueness I don't mean a horn growing from my head (but how bloody awesome would that be). I am blunt, and sarcastic, and rude, and it takes a damn special kind of person to put up with that and to see beyond it all, I am really nice (groan) and sweet (double groan) and that the sarcasm is just to make people laugh, put them at ease, make their loads lighter. I am the burdern carrier, and will carry it for everyone if I could. And for those who wanna judge me as some real abrasive asshole and write me off as a jerk, as the Queen of Pop says in one of her new songs....I don't give a.....

You fill in the line.

Get ready to hate

The power of the people, to do what is right.....to protest and march and bitch and moan....all for a social conscience. My take on it? Save the conscience for yourself. Yes peoples, I am going to go on a very politically incorrect rant here. You want the truth? All of your marching and wearing ribbons, does jack shit. Its nice to wear awareness by wearing a green shirt for earth day while not doing anything about it. I am sure the earth will thank you when all those ribbons get tossed out into the trash.

A friend of mine, not naming who.....wants to walk for cancer or something, to make people aware. I think people are pretty fucking aware of the nuisance that cancer can be. Shaving your head for solidarity, I mean its all well and cute, but no it does not cure cancer and does not make you a hero. Told you I would be incorrect, and cynical. But those who know me would not expect any less.

People always need a cause. People spread causes on Facebook like the mosquito spreads malaria. Click 1000 times for little Timmy to get an operation, or save this cow from the butcher. Nice try. Sad thing is, lots of mooks actually fall for it and share it, but it does help to give and indication as to those with low double digit IQ's, no offense to any of you who qualify.

So don't come to me and expect me to wear white in protest of some little girl who got raped, or to wear black to protest offshore drilling. Lets get the rapist and make those white shirts red by beating his ass up in public. Less words and gestures, and more damn action. Less whining people. Protesting is not gonna stop murder, and forget raising awareness. We already know. Did you not think that perhaps we don't wanna be reminded that we live in a shitty world?

Hurray for Tuesday?

I eventually had to drag myself out of bed today, as I do every day. After getting little sleep the night before, which is usual for me, I had to get up and grumble, especially since its a Tuesday. You know how some people get up and smell the roses? I get up and wanna strangle my cat for meowing too damn loud and drown the parrot for singing. Guess you know by now I am not a morning person, and the next person who says Good Morning Sunshine gets it....and will never see the sunshine again.

But thank god for the bus ride to work, one hour of just me and my music. There are people on the bus, but I acknowledge no one. I am not a social creature on the bus and can hardly be interested in anyone or their lives at that time of the day. Yes, I am a miserable fuck on the bus that early in the morning. I hate everything, all noises, and smells, and images...which is usual for me....

Now those of you cheerful Rose Nylunds out there, who wake up with a smile and singing like Snow White, I applaud you...but keep your damn cheer to yourself, nobody wants to know its a beautiful day, you don't have to go to pieces over the sun shining again, it does every damn day. If you wanna say your prayers and kiss a flower, its all well and good but don't rub such an unnatural lifestyle in my face...no one needs to know that you do that just plain weird.

So its come to this

Ok, so a friend of mine is watching Tosh.0, and I am at work. Another good buddy of mine, a hot red head, and if you know my friends, there is only one ginger in there so its easy to figure out who that is, well this buddy began writing a blog. Its cute and so like him. He had asked me if I write, and I recalled, I have like 5 or 6 blog sites I never write to, and I only post my poetry on forums.

So maybe I should write daily or something, even though the thought of what may come out in black or white scares me, for my daily thoughts may range from MDNA to MDMA to my bitch slapping one Snow White, and whether Snow White should be resurrected or not, to the untimely departure of a musketeer.

Then moments and thoughts come, I just sit wondering if I am happy here or not, in this life, in this job, all of it. So yes I got another failed relationship, and the chance at a new one faded like cheap perfume even before the first date. And maybe I am a schizo, I am insane, I am blunt and rude and crude and a damn Brit, and for those who don't like it, leave me in the dark side...no one asked you to stay, fucknut.

Sometimes just to save the while
I force myself to try and smile
A fracture in my stable head
So people will not think me dead

They can see I am the same
The same blood in that same vein
But it flows from a bitter start
Such that comes from a busted heart

They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
I slip away...

They choose what they want to see
Brighter color from darker me
So not to mar the perfect scene
With face unkempt and thoughts unclean

So I walk and keep in time
To fall in rhythm and perfect rhyme
To see my shadow beside theirs
With pleasant dreams and absent fears

Differences are what must hide
The moral laws I must abide
I slip away...

The Maya Saga Continues

A Maya archaeological dig happening in downtown San Ignacio? Yeah, we know it is well heard of by now. It has been 4 days since the news broke, 3 days since the burial was found, and pictures of the dig were plastered all over the internet, shared on Facebook, blogs, and even on TV. Two more days have gone by, and the digging continues. Ok, so no more burials are popping out, but the ongoing trench work being dug by powerful machinery has allowed us to view how much further the cultural remains go, how deep, and can help us to piece things together, to get an idea of what was going on here more than 2000 years ago.

2000 years does not seem that long does it? Not if you think of how old the world is and how millions of years have passed since life spring out of primordial soups and ooze. But 2000 years has allowed for much nicer evidence to be left behind, for us to discover, and create an image of our little town before it was out town. But our town it is now, with a proud heritage, and this discovery has brought out the best in people. With little time to waste, the best option we had was to do a salvage operation, to save what we can, document what we must, to allow the process of civilization and town beautification to continue. Volunteers were welcomed to make the process go much faster and we were never short of such folks around.

The third day in digging yielded less in terms of actual goods, but much more in the information we can receive. There was a clear pattern developing in terms of where to find the cultural material. The men of the work force waited patiently, scraping carefully, to allow us to quickly jump in, take depth levels of the continuous level of cultural material, and even seemed now to be part of the excitement. We found no bone this time, but that did not stop spectators from milling around, eagerly anticipating something new to pop out of the soil being scraped by trowels. In the afternoon on the third day, the most exciting moment came when a rim was spotted, and yielded a somewhat whole, though fractured, vessel. Since the workmen were pretty much done, we thought it was a good time for some of the students of Galen to be a part of the dig, to learn how to uncover the artifacts with time and precision. It was also a good time for primary school students to come and see a part of history instead of only reading about it, or waiting to see items in a museum behind a glass case.



And finally on to the fourth day, which was a bit less eventful and which saw a more rapid progression towards the end of the pipe laying for that section of road. The sun was still hot, PVC plumbing was exposed, the cultural remains ran along the same layers, and good community relations continued with coffee, sodas and refreshing chicken soup at Flayvas.

One of the most interesting finds of the day came 30 cm from the surface of the road, a hollow leg of a vessel with a scroll tip. This was quite exciting if for 3 days all you got were rim sherds, not that rim sherds are bad. But this was different. What was more amazing, and for a few seconds quite puzzling, was when Dr. Awe examined it and claimed it was from the Post Classic. But wait, didn't you say the stuff coming out for the past 3 days was Late Preclassic? How can this be? As he explained to myself and Josue, since this was near the surface, it could easily have been brought down my prehistoric flood waters from Tipu, a Post Classic site. It made sense to us, or we would have been left speculating whether the Maya foresaw us digging there, and just decided to have some fun at our expense.






As the day wound down, the sun getting less bright and bones and muscles more weary from exhaustion, the smiling face of my good buddy and coworker Melissa was enough to lift the spirits. She got to see what the excitement was all about, hear all the stories of the past 4 days, and watch as an impromptu class session unfolded with high school students learning about the only major find of the day, and learning that obsidian comes from a volcano, and not from under the sea. It those innocent moments that warm the heart.



The last 4 days have been exciting and also educational. I have learned how to quickly decide when to change levels in a unit, how to handle impromptu salvage work, making the best records possible given almost impossible circumstance, but perhaps most important, that in time of need, humanity does exist and people are willing to help in whatever way they can. I've made news friends, strengthened existing relationships, and built my own confidence by taking responsibility for work being done in a field I love. Just as soon as I think Maya archaeology cannot get anymore interesting, that amazing ancient race continues to baffle me and shakes my own thoughts on what this wonderful town once was. I can easily wish that a discovery of this magnitude happens once a month. But for now I will relish in this one while I have that chance.