belize.

When I tell you I’ve gotten some of the most bizarre looks when telling people I’m Belizean, believe it. Of course, only after I have to differentiate Belize from Brazil, Bolivia and basically most other B countries. I’ll get to explaining how my dad’s side of the family has been there for generations, all the while my uncommon family history baffles my listener. 

The story of Belize is not so different- generations of triumph and error. A small country on the east coast of Central America was one of the many colonies of the British crown. Once referred to as “British Honduras” the country was one of the very few colonies owned by the British on the entire continent; the largest majority in that area of the world were owned by Spain and Portugal. 

This early British influence gave the young colony the ability to speak English and establish its roots there. I often get “oh so must speak Spanish, right?” Nope, not the case. 

Going back about four or five generations from now, that’s where one of my great, great, grandfathers found himself in the English army. As life unfolded, my family tree began to be established in that country. During his time stationed in Belize, he realized how much he had grown to enjoy living there. When he was discharged, he decided, “you know what? I just might live here.” And so he did. 

Like I mentioned earlier, It’s my dad’s side of the family that has been there for many generations. The house that we own in Belize City, ( the capital) our family has had since sometime between 1920 to 1922- which has reached over 100 years at this point. The property is absolutely breathtaking- overlooking the crystalline Caribbean Sea.

Skip forward a generation or two, where my grandfather was also living in Belize. My grandmother-to-be had visited the country with her family from Lebanon. As fate would have it, she met my grandfather, and they were eventually married. The irony in this situation was that my grandmother, blonde-haired and light green eyes, looked nothing like the rest of her Lebanese family- all with similar hair and eyes. I’m not too sure what happened in her gene pool- but that was one heck of a mutation. I mean, she looked just like them in her features, but certainly not the color of them.

The couple eventually ended up having my dad- who would grow up on the streets of Belize. As he grew older, he had gone to high school in St.Pete, Florida. Fast forward in time when he would meet my mom- and it has its own really cool story.

So now moving to my mom’s side of the family; my grandfather on her side was from Illinois. My grandfather had inherited a bunch of corn and soy fields in the Midwest. Remember, this takes place during the 1950s. So he says to himself, “well, what the heck am I going to do with all this corn and soy fields?” So naturally, not wanting to be grounded there for the rest of his life, he sold them. He saw in the Chicago Tribune one morning that you could buy land for 25 cents an acre in the then British Honduras. And that’s exactly what he did. 

So as my mom grew up throughout her childhood, they would spend a lot of their times flying back and forth to Belize. Eventually they had moved to Hollywood, Florida, because flights were easier to get to Belize from Hollywood, Florida. Besides, there is a lot more sunshine and palm trees there than in Illinois.

And so she remembers spending her summers at San Pedro as a little girl playing with a lot of the local kids. The year that she turned nine, my dad, (14 at the time) met at a party and she instantly captivated her. My dad, as hilarious and charming as he is, was always the life of the party. That’s the day she remembers falling for him. 

So obviously they didn’t start dating until many years later, but the two didn’t forget each other between the years. Fast-forward to when my mom graduated high school in Florida, she ended up moving to Gainesville to attend the University of Florida. Her parents really nudged her to marry my dad and moved to Belize. And so that’s what she did. She ended up dropping out of UF only a couple of months when she was 18 years old. She got married to my dad and had me 10 months later. 

So there I was: born in Belize, I lived there for several years until both my parents wanted to move back to the States. My dad eventually became a firefighter, and she became a nurse. It was in South Florida that I stayed until later, moving back to a small town just outside of Gainesville- back up north.

I had not neglected my roots, however; I still went back periodically to visit, since I have a ton of family there still. My dad still has his house there- which I still absolutely love. In my lifetime, I’m grateful to have been fortunate enough to take my entire family, my husband and three kids, back there to share my experience in June 2019. From seeing Mayan ruins to fishing and tubing- all the wonderful things the country has yet to offer, and we still haven’t seen them all yet.