For those of you who don't know WWOOFing (Willing Workers On Organic Farms) is basically a system where you work in return for free board and food, so given our lack of funds (tacos aren't as cheap as we thought) we decided to give it a try.
As it turns out our first experience of WWOOFing was not so 'organic' after all but it was an adventure all the same. Barton Creek Outpost is a camp site in the middle of the Belizian jungle and in terms of its location it's a little piece of heaven. The Outpost can only be reached by an hours drive along a dirt track in a 4 by 4 which involves actually driving through the Creek at one point (which I got the opportunity to try myself later in the week in a very trusting local guy's car!). However soon after we arrived it became apparent that the other volunteers were quite disillusioned with the placement, a feeling that we soon began to share. The outpost is run by an American family that have no interest in the environment what so ever, the father appeared to make it his personal mission to be as mean as possible and the mother seemed to be on the verge on a nervous break down, bizarrely all three Kids seemed fairly well rounded! We made our decision to leave the Creek early when we were three days in and at the dinner table Abi remarked 'my water tastes like bleach' to which the another volunteer replied with 'yep, that's how they clean it' hardly believing our ears we stuck our heads around the kitchen door and sure enough right next to the barrel of drinking water stood a bottle of household bleach. Whats especially crazy is that everyone else in the area drinks the water just the way it is and have never been sick. They also endlessly washed clothes, dishes and everything with nasty detergents and chemicals which all drain directly into the Creek. Now Abi and I may not be fully fledged tree hugging hippies but we have our limits.
Typically our day began at 7.30, when we would sweep the floor, squeeze OJ, prepare breakfast and if we were lucky clean the toilets. After this our tasks varied each day from folding the family's laundry to potting plants. One day we were lucky enough to be given the task of picking oranges which largely involved us hanging out in the branches of the trees in the orange grove. Generally the work wasn't bad at all but often it seemed a little redundant, for example one day Jackie decided she'd like us to dig up one area of grass at the back of the lawn and move it to the front where the chemicals from the washing machine water had killed all the grass. This was quite back breaking and given that she had no intention of stopping to put chemicals into the soil no doubt the new grass would last only a matter of weeks, but hey who are we to argue. Our worst day of work by far was when we were asked to accompany Jackie and her gaggle to the Saturday market in town. Jackie liked to think of herself as a bit of an entrepreneur and had the genius idea of selling bunches of flowers on valentines day. The only problem being that they were incredibly over priced and the very concept of giving a bunch of flowers seems to be quite alien to most Belizians. On the day itself we were rudely awaken at 4am to pick flowers in the dark. We were then asked to man the market stall until 3pm in the blistering sun with no food or water. The final straw though was when Jackie told us we needed to tour the local bars and shops trying to flog the blasted bouquet. Now I'm a pretty flexible person, and I've had my fare share of random jobs in the past, but no amount of free food was worth entering a bar as two young gringo girls and trying to persuade a load of drunken middle aged men that they want to buy their wives flowers. Funnily enough this was a job Jackie didn't feel the need to take part in herself.
Typically our day began at 7.30, when we would sweep the floor, squeeze OJ, prepare breakfast and if we were lucky clean the toilets. After this our tasks varied each day from folding the family's laundry to potting plants. One day we were lucky enough to be given the task of picking oranges which largely involved us hanging out in the branches of the trees in the orange grove. Generally the work wasn't bad at all but often it seemed a little redundant, for example one day Jackie decided she'd like us to dig up one area of grass at the back of the lawn and move it to the front where the chemicals from the washing machine water had killed all the grass. This was quite back breaking and given that she had no intention of stopping to put chemicals into the soil no doubt the new grass would last only a matter of weeks, but hey who are we to argue. Our worst day of work by far was when we were asked to accompany Jackie and her gaggle to the Saturday market in town. Jackie liked to think of herself as a bit of an entrepreneur and had the genius idea of selling bunches of flowers on valentines day. The only problem being that they were incredibly over priced and the very concept of giving a bunch of flowers seems to be quite alien to most Belizians. On the day itself we were rudely awaken at 4am to pick flowers in the dark. We were then asked to man the market stall until 3pm in the blistering sun with no food or water. The final straw though was when Jackie told us we needed to tour the local bars and shops trying to flog the blasted bouquet. Now I'm a pretty flexible person, and I've had my fare share of random jobs in the past, but no amount of free food was worth entering a bar as two young gringo girls and trying to persuade a load of drunken middle aged men that they want to buy their wives flowers. Funnily enough this was a job Jackie didn't feel the need to take part in herself.
Still despite this obscure juxtaposition of people and place we managed to have our own little jungle adventure whilst there which led us to have a different wildlife related experience pretty much every day. We spent our evenings playing poker with the local rangers, swam in the creek every day and drank freshly hand squeezed OJ every morning so really it wasn't all bad. On our last evening the rangers took us on a midnight tour of the cave that sits at the mouth of the creek. The cave is quite magical, particularly at night and I can assure you that stalagmites and stalactites are a lot more fun after a couple of rum based beverages. Perhaps this is why I was convinced we were in the belly of a whale, or maybe I just have the mind of a 5 year old who's just had their first taste of Pinocchio, either way the likeness was uncanny. We kayaked right to the back, where we hiked up a steep slope from which you can see pottery and a human skull which has been left from a Mayan sacrifice. On the way back I saw a bat hanging about a meter from my head.
Anyway If I were to write a diary for the weeks jungle related experiences it would probably go something like this...
Monday
Whilst putting Razzel Dazzel the goat back in her pen I came across Edwin (a local guy who's employed by the family and a suspected cousin of Indiana Jones) poking something with his machete. Turned out he'd just killed a coral snake which was inches from his leg. These babies will kill you in a matter of a couple of hours. Seeming alarmingly laid back he proceeded to tell me the tale of a man from his village who got killed by one of these snakes not so long ago and how if we are to walk after dark we really aught to carry a machete with us... 'just in case'. Knowing full well that we would be utterly useless with a machete, and were more likely to mame each other then stop a deadly snake from injecting venom into one of our legs, we foolishly walked to bed without one or even a torch that night. Half way through our journey I looked down just in time to see Abi step right over our slivery foe. (This turned out to be two of 5 different face to face encounters we had with deadly poisonous snakes.)
Tuesday
Abi went to check on Logan (the son) who was sick in the family home. When she arrived she found a trail of army ants marching right across the bed he was sleeping in. These babies aren't dangerous but they give a nasty bite!
Wednesday
Not sure if this one really counts as local wild life but it was damn funny. A Mennonite neighbour snuck over for a cheeky bit of film watching (Mennonites are similar to the Amish community and don't believe in using technology). She brought with her a Mennonite dog. Barton creaks dog (Necicito) is a male dog, with male dog needs. Whilst eating dinner I glanced up to see Necicito meeting these needs with the female Mennonite dog. I learnt something new that day. Apparently when dogs, umm, make puppies they get, well, stuck for quite some time after they've done the deed, something to do with swelling so I'm told but we'll leave the details there. Anyway, given that the female dog was chained up this meant the two of them where soon found by a very embarrassed looking owner who according to Mennonite practises won't be able to hold her future husbands hand until after he had proposed, let alone anything else. Unsurprisingly she left soon after the dog was released and we didn't see her for the rest of the week.
Thursday
Edwin sling shotted a bread fruit from a branch of a tree 30 feet above us and we chopped it up and fried it like chips it was delicious with salt, lime and ketchup. The other volunteers told us that the day before we arrived he used the same sling shot to kill an iguana and later cooked it for their dinner.
Friday
Saw Toucans fly from a mango tree right in front of us. Magic.
Saturday
Edwin invited us to his village to play football. This required us to walk through dense jungle for well over an hour. Learnt the following: chewing gum comes from the sap of a tree, there is a tree in the jungle with sap that can kill (obviously not the same tree), Edwin once had worms under his skin that he had to cut out with a knife.
When walking back through the jungle long after dark a Yellow Jaw (Fer de Lance) came straight for us. Edwin used his machete to chop it into 4 different pieces. Looked up Yellow Jaws in a snake book when we got back. Note the following extract:
This species is irritable, fast-moving and agile. It is also regarded as being excitable and unpredictable and has a reputation for being aggressive. Its large size and habit of raising its head high off the ground can result in bites above the knee. It has also been observed to eject venom over a distance of at least 6 feet (1.8m) in fine jets from the tips of its fangs (Mole, 1924). Bite symptoms include pain, oozing from the puncture wounds, local swelling that may increase for up to 36 hours, bruising that spreads from the bite site, blisters, numbness, mild fever, headaches, bleeding from the nose and gums, gastrointestinal bleeding, nausea, vomiting, impaired conciousness and tenderness of the spleen. In untrested cases, local necrosis frequently occurs and may require amputation. In fatal cases the cause of death is usually septicemia, intracranial hemorrhage, acute renal failure with hyperkalemia and metabolic acidosis and hemorrhagic shock.
2 comments:
Woohoo I can comment again! The bloggeroverlords stopped me from signing in but I have been reading :-) You girls have definitely got my admiration, I'm not scared of snakes irrationally, but I reckon I'd become a (rational) lump of jelly with the thought of so many of those buggers around! Just remember, 'red to black, venom lack, red to yellow, kill a fellow' (coral snake/milk snake) :-)
Wikipedia just pointed out my potentially fatal misleading advice:
"this only reliably applies to coral snakes native to North America: Micrurus fulvius (Eastern or common), Micrurus tener (Texas), and Micruroides euryxanthus (Arizona), found in the southern and eastern United States. Coral snakes found in other parts of the world can have distinctly different patterns, have red bands touching black bands, have only pink and blue banding, or have no banding at all."
Never listen to me!
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