Dear Sleaze: Donald Foxhall an old seas dog and caver is in Belize building a mansion to retire in. Not sure where but I betcha you could find him. As for that hotel. Ethnomusicologist Emory Whipple and I stayed there in 1969. And those silly Gurkhas were there then to and some British MP's that stopped a big brawl between the regular Brits soldiers and a bunch of locals over something.
On Tue, Jun 20, 2017 at 6:02 PM, Sleazeweazel via Texascavers < texascavers@texascavers.com> wrote: > _______________________________________________ > Texascavers mailing list | http://texascavers.com > Texascavers@texascavers.com | Archives: http://www.mail-archive.com/ > texascavers@texascavers.com/ > http://lists.texascavers.com/listinfo/texascavers > > > ---------- Forwarded message ---------- > From: bmorgan...@aol.com > To: bmorgan...@aol.com > Cc: > Bcc: > Date: Tue, 20 Jun 2017 19:02:57 -0400 > Subject: Oztotl not a Mayan god! > So I'm palling it up with my pistol packing ranger buddy Canti (which > means "snake" in Kekchi) and I ask if he knows about Oztotl and pays him > the proper respect by throwing virgins into cenotes, etc. He screwed up his > nose and said, "That's not a Mayan word, certainly not Kekchi, sounds more > like Toltec to me. Those damned Mexicans have been bothering us for the > last couple of thousand years and we keep getting blamed for their barbaric > habits! We might have torn the hearts out of sacrificial victims with > obsidian knives but we never ate them!" > > These short necked people never cease to amaze me with their intelligence > and insight. It is normal for Belizean Mayans to speak at least four > languages, Kekchi (plus Mopan and Yucatec), Spanish, English, and Creole. > One of Canti's friends back in the home village can speak seven languages > including Chinese even though he never went to school. As for Hell the > concept is still current. Everybody knows about Xibalba (she BAL ba) and > expects to go there soon. It turns out that only the anteroom of Hell is a > scary place, after you get deep enough you are in Heaven! > > But enough about smart people. This morning I crossed the flood swollen > Bladen in a canoe, and now I'm back in the real Belize which is to say the > funky little coastal town of Punta Gorda better known as PeeGee. The > culture is Garifuna which means that dreadlocked zombies stare out at the > sea all day long while smoking spliffs and mumbling in broken Creole about > Jah. > > When I got out of the bus I looked up and there by the sea side was the > rotting remnant of the old Hotel Isabel, an enormous wooden structure > which hangs over both the Caribbean sea and Front street. Twenty seven > years ago I stumbled into PeeGee more dead than alive. The Hotel Isabel was > already a rotting hulk but was open for business so I checked in and > procured a stinking bug infested cubical on the second floor. Things were > quiet since it was early afternoon. I staggered down the street to a > Chinese restaurant and had their special poison soup with rotten meat. > Thereafter I collapsed in my room and didn't wake up until after dark. > > When I awoke I had no idea where I was or what was going on but I could > sense that there were countless people in my immediate proximity. The wall > by my head was creaking, groaning, and bouncing, and I could hear numerous > voices in an unknown language. When I opened the door I discovered an > entire contingent of Gurkha soldiers awaiting their turn to be serviced by > two Guatemalan girls who had the room next to mine, hence the thumping and > bumping. > > I headed for the back porch to vomit and there discovered so many Rastas > that a huge blue cloud of ganja smoke drifted over the sea. The Rastas > would not leave me alone so I retreated to the front porch where the some > of the Gurkhas had gone for a post coital smoke (tobacco not ganja). In the > street below there were a handful of violently drunken British soldiers who > were taunting the Gurkhas and daring them to fight. The Gurkhas were > remarkably polite for professional killers but they couldn't help but > finger their kukrie knives and one fellow even begged his commander > to"please please pretty please let me kill just one of them!" > > I passed out again, then when I woke up it was nearly dawn but the noise > hadn't stopped, it had simply been replaced by the cries of the Salvadorean > children's refugee chorus who had moved into the room vacated by the > exhausted Guatemalan girls. Starving children make terrible noises, it is > best to simply smother them. I was going to do just that when an > inexplicable event occurred, work. No one ever works in Belize, especially > at dawn, but nevertheless someone decided to replace the rotting wooden > planks of the outside wall by nailing on sheet metal. This was happening > inches from my head and completely drowned out the children. That was when > I discovered that my entire body was covered with bedbug bites. I fled and > did not returned until today. > > The hotel Isabel is still standing but barely. In the shade of the front > porch I could see the huddled forms of various swarthy degenerates. I was > busy taking photos when several of them challenged me, "Why you take picha > Bro? Nuttin here to see but me". When I said it was my old hotel they said, > "No way Mon, dis be a whore house not a hotel, and she no be open". A > grizzled old man stepped forward to claim ownership of the premises. He > didn't believe I had ever stayed there until I told him the above story. > That was when he said, "Welcome back my bruddah, all de ting you say be > true!" > > The Great Southern highway (now paved!) stops here, so tomorrow I will > take a skiff across the ocean to Livingston Guacamolia, a place even > funkier than PeeGee. I am still a bit weak but my time at BFREE was the > best possible restorative so now I'm ready for adventure! > > Sleazeweazel > > > > > > > > > -- Charlie Loving
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