A Slice of Cayo

Our family chat buzzed with a post from my sister-in-law Mar sharing a picture of different plants  sold at Rose Petal Garden and Nursery in  Santa Elena, Cayo. I ignored the message at first as I have never been good with plants; In fact, I had lost two succulents in my short planting history.  However, I began to see the road trip as an opportunity to visit the breadbasket of Belize. I was in! 

The Saturday of the trip came and, surprisingly, my brother-in-law Kai was on time: 9 am Sharp. My Belizean internal clock protested that they were 30 minutes too early as I rushed to grab my items. “Phone, wallet, keys,” I said, patting my pockets to ensure I had the essentials.  We passed for my mother-in-law Ms. Dian and her two stragglers, aka nieces, and we were on our way. 

From Ladyville, we headed north, then turned onto Boom Road Cutoff that connects to George Price Highway. We encountered a hiccup and needed to pull over for a little impromptu car maintenance. After a simple fix with some fishing line, we were road-ready again. We zoomed down the Boom road and, passing the prison, jokingly threatened to leave the children there and pick them up when we returned.  

We continued our way through the many villages along the George Price Highway and enjoyed the beautiful scenery that looked very much like Ladyville. It all felt “Belizeany,” at home, and that made the drive relaxing. However, the village names prompted many questions: Who was Blackman Eddy? Who was George, and what did he do to have a village named after him? What was so special about the tea kettle? The questions remained unanswered, but our group pleasantly enjoyed these small trinkets along the way. 

We finally made it to Santa Elena and, according to Google Maps, were one turn away from our destination. Although we were close, having been on the road for 2 hours, were all hungry, so we pulled into Pizzeria La Sierra, very welcoming and family-friendly. It even had a ball pit for children. We took our time ordering, and I settled for the American-style chicken fingers, along with a salad. I typically do not eat salads, but to my surprise, it was amazing. The lettuce and juicy tomatoes tasted like they were freshly picked, and the chicken fingers had a crunchy outer layer. The cost was only $18. 

After the children had been playing in the ball pit for some time,  we were fuelled up and preparing  to go when Kai asked, “Mike, how far Xunantunich?”  

“Noh, too far. Should be just up the road,” I replied, pulling out my phone to check Google Maps. “Thirty minutes away, and they open until 4,” I reported. We both checked our watches. It was now 1 PM.  

“You think it would be a bad idea?” he asked. 

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” I responded.  

Mischievous smiles filled our faces as everyone came back to the table, unaware of the new change. 

As we pulled out of the parking lot back on the road, the unknowing passengers began to look at us puzzled. “Where are we going?” Mar queried. 

“Right now you will know,” Kai responded as we made our way westbound, following the GPS on the phone. 

Take the next right off the George Price Highway, the Google Voice said. 

“Kai, the map says turn right,”  I repeated what Google indicated. 

“I di look at the map and see where we can go straight,” he replied. 

Bup. The Google Maps was now rerouting. We had missed the recommended turn. 

Take your next right in 100 meters.

“Kai, are you sure? It says take the next right,” I indicated. 

“No, see here, we have a bridge right here we can cross,” pointing to his phone. Google does not know our Belize better than we,” he added.

“Okay, but I see an arrow on Google Maps. You sure that bridge good?”   

“Yes, man.” 

Turned out, Google Maps did know our little Belize better than we did. Three missed turns later, we accepted it was right. 

Now, on the correct route to Xunantunich, we enjoyed the amazing views of the mountains. Just as Google said, within 30 minutes, we were crossing the Xunantunich ferry. Next, we drove uphill for about a mile and pulled into the parking area. We paid the admission fee of $10 per Belizean adult  (the children under 13 entered free) and took the short trek farther up the hill toward the ruins.  

Arriving at the site, we were welcomed by a wide open, sunny space surrounded by tall trees that provided a frame of cool shade.  As we made our way from one small ruin to another, Kai, our unofficial tour guide, made up little incorrect information for the children, who, with smiles on their faces, consumed everything he said as truth. 

We made our way to the largest Mayan ruin, preparing ourselves for the hike. 

We took deep breaths and started up the steep steps. Dian took short breaks at the two small platforms before making it to the third, where she decided to stop. Any higher had no rails, and she was not going any farther. “I do not have on my tennis,” she said as an excuse. This left Kai, Mar, and me going up the stairs, through the cavern area, and taking one more set of steps to the apex. On emerging at the top, there was a reaction of amazement: the clouds filled the sky, and the greenery expanded over the land as far as the eye could see. The wind whipped our hair around and brushed our skin soothingly. I imagined it was the world as God saw it. 

This moment was one I wished every Belizean could have. To experience the vastness of this beautiful jewel we call home is something no picture could capture. It was a moment of humility and deep appreciation.  

However, it was short-lived, as a dash of fear reminded us how high we were with no rails. The three of us ever so slightly edged to hold on to one of the structures at the top of the ruin. We clung to these as we shuffled to the front, but we were not alone. A few feet to our right was a tour group of four people and their tour guide.   

“If we keep quiet, we can hear what they say,” Kai whispered. 

With that, we sneakily listened as the tour guide explained the wedding process at the ruin: 

“You can get married here for $600 USD. Your family would be at the bottom, in the open area, and the priest would announce you and your wife married on the ruin top.” 

My in-laws and I looked at each other with amazement; we learned something new.  

The tour guide continued speaking: 

“However, after the wedding, the husband will throw the wife off the ruin, and if she survives, that would mean she was NOT a virgin.” 

Everyone was now shocked, our crew forgetting we were eavesdropping and now intently focused on the tour guide as he continued.  

“So, the husband could leave her and go marry a virgin. But if she dies, then that would mean she is a virgin and would now be in the thirteen heavens, and the husband cannot remarry.” 

The tourists and we were now laughing at this, Kai watching Mar, wondering if we should be testing this concept. Everyone was having a great time with one of the most wondrous views before us.  With this, we made our way down, rejoining members of our trip who did not make it to the top. We left the ruins thoroughly exhausted but with an experience we will always remember. 

Now back on the road, we headed to our original destination, Rose Petal Garden and Nursery. Google Maps took us to the other side of the Hawkesworth Bridge, and within 35 minutes, we rolled up to a yard covered with plants.   

It seemed that a rainforest was pouring from the yard. As we made our way into the grounds, it was like walking into a cool room—a vast difference from the hot street. The host took us down a path while pointing at the different plants and explaining about grafted plants. They use the sour orange trunk that can handle the rigors of the environment, giving the plant a high chance of growing without issues. Being new to this, I asked every question I could think of: How much should it be watered? Can it stay in the sun? Should I bring it into the shade during the day? And many more, which they were happy to answer. Now it was time to pick out plants. 

“I want a soursop, orange, lime, grapefruit...” Mar began, naming multiple varieties of fruit plants. She was in her element, eagerly buying plants while resisting the temptation to buy even more. While Kai and I stood in one place, Mar walked around, looking over the plants and choosing the ones she wanted, finally settling on thirteen.  I, on the other hand, only requested four: an American lemon, pink grapefruit, soursop, and mandarin, each costing fifteen dollars. In addition, Mar and I both got a sack of soil for twelve dollars each.  My total came to seventy-two dollars, and Mar’s, two hundred and seven dollars.  We packed our plants into a wheelbarrow, but before wheeling out, the owner surprised us; we both got a free raspberry plant, which we gladly accepted.   

We wheeled our way out and began packing the plants into the back of the vehicle. We got more than we had planned, but with some reshuffling, we were able to fit it all into the trunk. With this, we were on our way back home to Ladyville. 

What started as a not-well-planned trip to buy plants turned into a delicious slice of Cayo.

Michael Novelo is an Accounting major at the University of Belize. He lives in Ladyville, Belize and enjoys travelling and video games.