Elizabeth Pridgeon

Readers who are familiar with this column may remember that many months ago, I intended to do a ‘Voices of the Village’ article from Seine Bight on a trip to the Placencia Peninsula, but changed my mind when I was greeted by a significantly hostile reception by a group of villagers.  More recently, I headed to Seine Bight once again, and although this trip proved more fruitful as far as research was concerned, I must admit that many of my scepticisms regarding the village remain.

The main essence of my village visits is to hear what concerns villagers have about their settlements, and also to learn about special aspects of village life in order to ‘big up’ the village and therefore encourage readers to visit. Sadly, during my trip to Seine Bight, few locals found anything particularly positive to say about the village, and many used my inquisitiveness to vent anger over issues such as adolescent attitudes, slothful behaviour among younger generations, increasing propensities of failed relationships and single-headed households, and escalating health problems which can largely be prevented by conscientious life choices.

The Garifuna village, for a long time home to just a handful of families, now boasts a population of over 2000 due to recent influxes of immigrants seeking their share of ‘Peninsula Paradise’.  However, many of these new arrivals are housed in condominiums and luxury holiday homes which are situated to the north of the village towards Maya Beach, and therefore the majority of village complaints are only felt by those in the most central areas of the settlement.

A recurring complaint was the behaviour of school children, which was in turn blamed on inert parenting methods.  Absenteeism is reported as being a huge problem, affecting all age groups of the village, including High School students who commute to Independence every day,   Truant school children are accused of misdemeanours throughout the village, including stone-throwing at vehicles and mischievous acts such as destroying signs and public notices.  Whereas some villages report problems such as these when high proportions of the adult population are occupied with meaningful employment, Seine Bight cannot use the same excuse.  Since farming and fishing have taken a back-seat in the village economy, many parents are not employed at all, and thus should be even more responsible towards sending their children to school, so they are not doomed to a similar fate.  Many households have family members who are employed away from home, be it in the police force, the BDF or even those who emigrated to the States, and some village elders believe that it is this external source of funding which is jeopardising the village’s future: some families are so dependent on being sent money, that they do not even try to source their own incomes instead.  Rarely has the correlation between “idle minds” and “the devil’s workshop” been so visibly apparent.

Inappropriate parenting methods are also blamed for several health problems in the village, particularly epidemic levels of parasites and skin problems among the village youth.  Even more preventable are frequent cases of malnutrition, psychological damage caused by abuse, and genetic complaints caused by incestuous relationships.  Recently, social services again intervened to remove twins from a neglectful home, and health clinic staff threatens that this year, such behaviour will not be tolerated, and where necessary, further institutional intervention will be requested.

Perhaps the underlying cause of these problems is the high incidence of teenage pregnancies – from as young as 13 years old.  These ‘children having children’ are unprepared for the duties of parenthood and the responsibilities of adulthood, and as such unnecessary problems arise within households.  The village nurse, Nurse Reynolds, has established the Seine Bight Girls’ Club Meeting, which encourages young girls to commit to the group that “I pledge to honour God, my parents and my elders, to love and respect myself and others…and as a team we pledge to make a difference in our community”.

It can only be hoped that this group secures high participation rates, and inspires further groups to form, which may lead the village youth down a different path than that taken by their young parents.  With the number of sensible village elders dwindling, and a dearth of suitable younger candidates to take their place, the future success of Seine Bight village is clinging onto very tentative hooks right now.

Mid-way up the Old Northern Highway is the quaint, yet ever changing, village of Lucky Strike.  Once the stopping point for transport networks from the northern regions of the country to the City, Lucky Strike made a good en-route breaking point for trucks and the earliest buses.  Situated equidistant to the Northern River Lagoon and Midwinter’s Lagoon, Lucky Strike is only a few miles from the coast, which was also reason for fishermen and mariners to stop at the village.

However, what really determined the development of Lucky Strike more recently is its close proximity to the Mayan archaeological site at Altun Ha.  Since various tourist trails opened up in the region, encouraging international visitors to delve into the area’s ancient history, Mayan sites such as this have become an increasingly focal point on traveller’s itineraries.  Lucky Strike has, for several years, benefitted from the passing trade of such tourists.  However, the Old Northern Highway is now in such disrepair that most visitors to the site reach the location on accompanied tours, meaning that the busloads of tourists (including passengers from cruise ships) are no longer given the opportunity to stop in Lucky Strike village and experience the charm of the quiet hamlet.  Whilst this has reduced revenue for village businesses, some villagers have managed to adapt to the new reality and several now take their commodities to Altun Ha for sale on the market stalls there.

The village stretches from approximately Mile 29 of the Old Northern Highway to Mile 32, within which limits a Government Primary School and the prestigious King’s College lie.  The Lucky Strike Primary School fosters in children a sense of community pride and ambition in the sports field, and the village boasts several sports teams, including the Lucky Strike Eagles football team, which made the Super League last year.  Volleyball teams support both male and female athletes, and also depict a glowing record of local victories.  Many villagers join sports teams in their school years, and sustain membership and involvement for decades afterwards.

It is this entertainment and extra activity provision within the village that has enabled problems such as drug abuse and anti-social behaviour to stay at negligible rates.  Although the village boasts a bar, and occasional over-indulgence is recognised as a problem, the perpetrators are happily sent on their way before their behaviour reaches anything above nuisance levels.  Perhaps it is the familial ties that connect most residents to their neighbours which maintain the peace of the village.  Various youths of the village respect the area’s tranquillity and state that “the only gunshot is that of the hunterman”; the reality is that various villagers partake in game hunting, and local food specialities often feature armadillo, gibnut and deer.

The village is offered constant access to the city through two public buses daily, and two student buses too.  However, many villagers reveal that they only travel to the city when absolutely necessary, due to the increasing perception of danger and fear on the City’s streets.  A few villagers make daily trips to the City in order to sell their farm produce (principally salad products, maize, melons and seasonal fruit) although they report that they are always happy to reach the tranquillity of home at the end of the day.

The residents themselves, however proud of their village, refuse to be ‘left behind’ on account of their geographical isolation, and the village boasts higher levels of phone and internet connections than many other village localities in Belize.  Similarly, before potable water was offered to residents, a group of villagers teamed together to provide water pumps for the village, to ensure that sanitary standards were maintained well above national averages.

Lucky Strike may seem to have a mountain of challenges confronting its development, but somehow its residents persistently seem to succeed in promoting initiatives for the village.  [In fact, some elderly residents believe that the standard of living improved once the main traffic network transferred from the village to the new Northern Highway, as villagers were left in peace to look after themselves.] Thus, whether the village was called after its apparently “lucky” charm, or whether it is true that a road-worker helping to construct the very first (Old) Northern Highway found a Lucky Strike cigarette in the village, it seems that the ‘lucky’ aspect at least is true.

Lucky Strike village has defied all geographical odds and become a sustainable and active community in Belizean affairs.  And it is encouraging to know that, amid Lucky Strike youth at least, very few of them have any intention of leaving the ‘haven’ where they were born and have grown up.  Thus for Lucky Strike at least, future generations are already committed to continuing the work of past generations, and strive to maintain Lucky Strike as a village poised ever-ready to lunge into a successful future.

Nestled just a couple of miles northwest of San Ignacio is the tranquil village of Bullet Tree Falls.  Until a decade or so again, the village was a simple Spanish-speaking community, unknown by many, and only even marginally on the map because of its unique access to the isolated Maya ruin, El Pilar.  However, in recent years the village’s strategic location yet peaceful ambience has attracted many new residents to the community, and various tourist facilities have since opened up, taking advantage of the ‘authentic’ feel of the place.

With a growing population, currently almost topping 4000 inhabitants, Bullet Tree has grown beyond nearly all recognition of its former days of a small hamlet-type settlement.  The village, it is thought, was settled by wood loggers who sought a particularly hard and durable wood, provided by Bullet Trees.  By the late 1800s, the village was also home to a handful of Maya families, who settled the precise location where a set of gentle rapids (or ‘falls’) cross the Mopan River for a convenient source of fresh-flowing water (hence the name Bullet Tree Falls).  Nearly two centuries later, further refugees from the Caste War in Mexico also ultimately made their home in Bullet Tree Falls, which generated the foundations of the village today.  The proximity of the village to the Guatemalan border supported the village’s substantial numbers of chicleros in the past, as they would travel across the region in search of gum.  However, the nearby border today frequently causes problems as contrabandistas often use the village access roads to smuggle illegal Guatemalan goods into Belize.

Bullet Tree Falls today has more of a transient population, with the majority of working residents commuting daily to work in San Ignacio and Belmopan.  Those who work further afield, either as public servants or in tourist-related industries, often only return to their home village on a monthly basis.  However, due to the growth of tourism within the village (largely due to the nearby El Pilar ruins), several residents now enjoy gainful employment within the village itself.  With over half a dozen bars, a couple of restaurants, various budget and mid-range hotels and guesthouses, guided tours, and the Masewal Forest Garden and Trail, various members of the community are directly involved in the tourism industry.  Furthermore, the El Pilar Cultural Centre – Be Pukte – is also housed in the village, attracting visitors with their unique model of the El Pilar Archaeological Site, and literature for sale alongside cafe facilities.

Villagers seem particularly proud of the development of their village, and the added opportunities it offers village residents, and there are various groups and committees established within the village in order to maintain an aesthetically pleasing environment.  The Bullet Tree Environmental Group formerly took responsibility for cleaning the river and the river-side area (with ‘rubbish’ being more a collection of branches and river sediment blocked by the rapids, rather than garbage disposed of by residents and visitors).  The Youth group has also proved active in the maintenance of a satisfactory village environment in the past.

Now, one of the most active groups within the village is the Bullet Tree Football Club, with both a male and a female team. Having started from scratch a year ago, the teams have fundraised and established a reputation for themselves as serious athletes, and now proudly boast full team kits to use at matches across the country.

Bullet Tree Falls is one of the several ‘gems’ of Cayo which make the district so popular with international tourists and Belizeans alike.  Just about every service that could be required is on offer in Bullet Tree Falls: from varied food outlets to grocery shops, from a tortilla factory to a butchers, from Creole bread sellers to a car wash.  The village also has a tree nursery, cultivating both native and introduced species, and is home to REMAR’s rehabilitation ‘farm’.  Around twenty ‘collectivo’ taxis serve the village, catering to these varied service providers, ensuring regular and reliable transport to and from San Ignacio.  Which means there’s no excuse not to visit Bullet Tree Falls, and experience the tranquillity of the village for yourself.

Many people consider Gracie Rock to be home to the national youth Cadet Service Corps and not much else.  But this couldn’t be further from the truth: Gracie Rock is a vibrant yet staggered village nestled between the Western Highway and the banks of the Sibun River, stretching all the way between mile 19 and mile 25 of the highway.

The layout of Gracie Rock is such that neighbours may live literally miles apart, but there is still an unlikely sense of community solidarity among residents.  The church (of Anglican denomination) meets every two weeks, encouraging the congregation to foster a deeper sense of community spirit.  The school also used to fulfil this purpose among younger generations, but since the UDP administration was elected into government, they closed down the village school and forced the young residents to attend primary school in Hattieville.  [The school facility, which is in the same building as the church, remains maintained as much as possible by nearby residents in the hope that one day, villagers will have their prayers answered and will once again be able to educate their young within their own village environment].

Gracie Rock is a favourite bathing spot during the summer months, when the river runs clear and beautiful, and is easily accessible from the gently sloping banks that stretch the length of the village.  Local residents also try to cater to this leisure traffic, offering a range of food and drinks for sale.  At least one resident even acquires a licence to sell liquor during these summer months in order to better satisfy the demands of visitors.  However, during the current winter months, extra sources of financial revenue are few and far between, and many residents struggle to make ends meet; the sale of vehicles, land and household appliances is sometimes all that enables residents to survive these times.

The village used to be well reputed as one of the agricultural strongholds of the Belize district, with plantations of citrus fruits, cassava, coco, yams and plantain planted alongside subsistence crops of rice, beans and corn.  However, residents report that such farming is principally maintained by village elders, with younger generations showing a lack of interest in such livelihoods.  Many younger families have moved from the traditional residencies beside the river, and now prefer properties lining the Western Highway, for improved access and infrastructure, despite relatively modern facilities even at the secluded village centre. Former Minister, Ralph Fonseca, during his term as Area Representative, facilitated the extension of electricity lines for village residents right up to the river, and the majority of the village’s 50-odd families now take advantage of this utility.

However, despite modern facilities, many of the village residents sustain lifestyles which are still very much attuned to the cyclical rhythms of nature: villagers consider that there is a ‘season’ for everything, such as when the river level is low, deer, gibnut and ‘peccary’ are hunted and cooked: something which is frowned upon during the mating season for the animals during summer months.  Residents express a concern that they are perhaps more deeply affected by climatic changes than other villages, and they still remember the fear that besieged the village in 2008 when the Sibun River burst its banks and the village was flooded for several weeks without any real assistance.

Those villagers who voted against their party in the last elections are now deeply regretting it.  Whereas Mr Fonseca was already undergoing negotiations regarding structural repair and improvements to the Community Centre, for example, since the UDP administration has taken power, no such discussions have been facilitated, and the Community Centre now lies in a near state of disrepair behind closed gates.  Similarly, when the announcement was made that the school would be closed the villages united and requested a meeting with Minister of Education, Patrick Faber, to reconsider the decision: even though the Minister promised to attend, he made no such appearance, and allegedly has not set foot in the village since.

The final word from the villagers is that they are willing to donate their time and resources to better the village, if only they receive similar support from the government.  Which, sadly, looks unlikely, at least until 2013, when the villagers (almost unanimously) hope for a change in administration to a more “people-friendly” party.

Chan Chen was founded in 1880 by various members of Belize’s northern community, migrating out of Corozal and nearby villages, and settling a new agricultural area.  Unlike many villages in its vicinity, Chan Chen is not principally a product of the Caste War, but rather a product of development and growth of Belize, and perhaps for this reason it became the new home of a divergent group of young families and entrepreneurs.   At the time, most people relied upon agriculture as a source of sustenance, and the village became renowned for producing successful yields of citrus, salad and vegetable crops.  Once the sugar industry established itself in Belize, many Chan Chen residents focussed predominantly on the production of sugar cane, but after the closure of the Libertad factory, villagers were once again forced to diversify to protect their vulnerable livelihoods.  Those who remain involved in the sugar cane industry have to endure one of the longest commutes to the BSI factory at Towerhill as any cane farmer anywhere in the country, and so profits and wealth from the cane industry are minimal for Chan Chen villagers.

Since the establishment of Corozal Free Zone, many Chan Chen residents have found work in the numerous shops and casinos at the border, and thus daily commutes have increased exponentially.  Increasing demand has given rise to more village taxis being established, and Chan Chen now hosts at least six full time resident taxis, providing public transport for villagers heading to and from the Free Zone and Corozal.  This hasn’t gone unnoticed by members of Corozal’s various taxi unions, who believe that the continued ‘giving out’ of taxi licences to all and sundry from various villagers is destroying the town’s taxista economy.  However, with no public transport alternatives servicing Chan Chen, as the population continues to expand, if anything village taxis are likely to grow in number.
The village population remains small, with less than 1000 residents, around 200 of which are primary school students.  The village welcomed the recent construction of a new Government Primary School building, which was inaugurated at the end of October last year, having been financed predominantly by the Caribbean Development Bank (CDB).
Currently, the southerly access road from Corozal to the village is under repair, which is another initiative aimed to assist with the overall challenge of poverty reduction in the village.  This may all seem like leaps and bounds in the records of village development, but residents reveal that while perhaps they were ‘lucky’ to have been chosen for international support, internal affairs of the village have a  somewhat more blemished record.  The biggest complaint at the moment is due to the village council’s inertia in just about all matters of village concern.  The village council had barely been elected when the chairman and his councillors found themselves divided for political reasons: although recognised as a UDP council, only half of the committee support the work and opinions of Area Representative, Acosta, whilst the other half have segregated themselves from their counterparts.  Thus any village initiative is hard to accomplish, which could not be more clearly demonstrated than in the current fiasco involving land lots.  Shortly into their term, the village council announced that needy villagers would receive parcels of land thereafter to relieve the pressures on numerous households in the village which are overcrowded (some to the level of insanitation).  However, even today there is no sign of land lots being distributed among Chan Chen’s needy, and with village elections just a couple of months away, it seems that – in true UDP style – the promise of land lots was mere rhetoric: just another promise that will be left unfulfilled when the term ends.
Despite internal conflicts, however, Chan Chen maintains its longstanding reputation as a village which does not tolerate crime, and thus the need for a community police officer only rarely arises.  Even then, most of the occasions requiring law enforcement revolve around the two geographical ‘divisions’ of the village, whose residents split into opposing gang-like groups decades ago, and whose segregations and conflicts have ever since been continued by younger generations.   However, aside from alcohol-fuelled fighting and on-going verbal ‘threats’, more grave issues rarely arise.
An issue which is often cited as seeking attention, however, is the health provision for the village, as the Health Clinic is rarely staffed by trained medics.  However, the proximity to Corozal Community Hospital, and the reasonable taxi fare to travel there, means that most villagers with medical needs seek assistance at the district centre; the problem arises for the village elderly, many of whom are immobile, and are forced to wait for infrequent visits by medical personnel.  When other villagers in other districts can boast doctors and nurses every week in their village health clinics, it seems unimaginably difficult to understand why Chan Chen village is, apparently, not worthy of such attention.
All in all, however, Chan Chen residents are descendents of those who weren’t satisfied with urban life over a century ago: people who moved to live a more simple life in a more rural setting.  Perhaps this inheritance explains the attitude of contemporary village residents, who are happy with their ‘lot’ (no pun intended) of life in Chan Chen.

Elizabeth Pridgeon

Thirty years ago, El Salvador was in the early grips of a crippling civil war which had been stewing for years, and hundreds of thousands of Salvadorans were increasingly desperate to seek refuge in nearby ‘safelands’.  Following the coup of 1979, Belize realised the urgency of assisting its regional ‘friend’, and committed to offering a solution for a lucky handful of Salvadoran refugees: Valley of Peace (colloquially referred to as Valle de Paz).

The first influx of Salvadoran refugees to Valley of Peace in 1980 consisted of five families, each of which was given a substantial acreage of land to establish agricultural production, plus a plot upon which to build a house.  Shortly afterwards, a ‘second wave’ of immigrants colonised the village, greatly boosting both the demographics and agricultural production of the area.  The undocumented agreement was that, as more Salvadorans settled in the village, more land would be made available to Belizeans who were equally seeking a ‘new start’ in a ‘new village’.  However, Belizeans were somehow less successful in the local agricultural sector, and many left the village within only a couple of years of arriving; today, Valley of Peace is home to only two of the original Belizean families who settled in the village in the early 1980s.

Although the concept of Valley of Peace seems idyllic, the village has suffered numerous physical impracticalities and social conflicts over the years.  The first problem to present itself was social aggravation as various sized lots were donated to different families: whilst some early immigrants received 50 acres to establish agricultural production, other ‘second wave’ migrants received less than half this land area, which was deemed ‘unjust’ by many residents.  Another problem to plague all residents was the aridity of the area, and the lack of nearby streams, rivers, creeks or reservoirs which exacerbated this situation.  It is only in the last decade that piped water has been made available to residents through the combined support of the UN, Help for Progress and WASA, which established the village’s first and only water tank.  One water tank may seem sufficient according to statistics, but Valley of Peace is one of the largest villages according to land mass in the country, comparable to the sprawling layout of Shipyard.  Thus residents of Valley of Peace may find themselves living several miles from their counterparts, and farming hundreds of acres apart.

The agricultural ambition for Valley of Peace, however, proved itself attainable from the start, and guidance from resident and nearby Mennonites assisted the Salvadorans to establish some of the best salad-growing farms in the region.  Sweet and chile peppers, tomatoes, zucchini, cucumber, cabbage and carrots are some of the most prevalent products, all of which are sold on the nearby Belmopan market, and surpluses are taken to Belize City for sale.  Despite international agricultural advisors being employed for the area in the early years to encourage diversification and non-reliance on one staple crop, much advice was not heeded, which has resulted in people competing in the same products, creating unimaginable surpluses (resulting in the dumping of literally tons of produce on occasion).

The infrastructure of the village also causes problems on occasion.  In the 1980s, it was hoped that each farm would maintain its own access roads through the provision of maintenance grants, but the proposal never reached fruition and the village now suffers poorly maintained roads, particularly during the rainy season, when heavy rain creates torrents of overland flow in the hilly surroundings. Valley of Peace does, however, have the natural resources for road repair, as a large limestone quarry within the village boundaries produces as much material as could ever be required by one village.  The excess of this quarry, which until now has always been considered a communal village asset, stimulated the current UDP village council to sell the limestone product to external construction companies and material suppliers; villagers complain that this extra revenue for the village has never benefitted the residents, and remains tightly controlled by the Chairwoman and her councillors.

However, external support in recent years (which continues today) looks set to assist the village into the future far more than the current government is willing to.  A group of exceedingly proactive Canadian Scouts have been participating in community development proposals of Valley of Peace for the past three years, having funded and helped build the community hurricane centre, worked on the school, and this year, having helped fund and build the Community Health Clinic.  Five group leaders alongside twelve youth sought support from the Scout Brotherhood Fund, the Rotary Club and the Canadian Embassy to provide building materials, whilst labour was donated by numerous villagers to assist the group.  The health provisions for Valley of Peace have been especially neglected over recent years, and it is hoped that the Ministry of Health’s most recent promise to provide a nurse and doctor five days a week for the community will be fulfilled: it will certainly be closely monitored by numerous parties (the Belize Times included).

Valley of Peace literally represented a haven of safety for distraught campesinos forced to flee their Salvadoran homeland in the 1980s, and even today a steady stream of immigrants arrive in Valley of Peace seeking a new opportunity – a new hope.  There are concerns that the continued exhaustion of the village’s resources to cater to these new arrivals will deteriorate the quality of life that residents have spent three decades establishing.  Perhaps it is time for a new ‘Valley of Peace’ to be proposed before this one loses its peaceful namesake?

In the mid-nineteenth century, a group of Ketchi Maya who had fled forced labour and discrimination in Via Alta Paz in Guatemala the previous century, again were forced to flee suffering and strife in their ‘home’ village and migrate.  This village was San Miguel (Toledo), and the new village that they created became the flourishing community of Laguna.

Laguna is situated approximately ten miles northwest of Punta Gorda town, and its village access road leads directly to the recently-paved Southern Highway.  With a population of around 350 residents, Laguna is not a sizeable village, even for Toledo standards, but the services and facilities that it boasts are all an impressive consequence of hard work and determination of its Ketchi residents.

Laguna was one of the first villages to enrol in the Toledo Ecotourism Association (TEA) Guesthouse Program, which is still running today.  This enables socially-responsible tourists to support local ecotourism initiatives, whilst experiencing holistic Ketchi life (village affairs, milpa agriculture and culinary traditions are all on display for the visitors to experience).  However, concerns are being raised by numerous villagers that Laguna Guesthouse has not received any custom for over a year.  Members of the Women’s Group in the village explained that several groups had booked a trip in advance, but were later advised against it due to the state of continued ill-repair of the Kendall Bridge which could leave the tourists ‘stranded’ if heavy rains came.
Villagers of Laguna have therefore been left even more dependent on their traditional milpa systems as a source of income.  Rice, cacao, livestock and timber are all raised on family smallholdings, currently sized around 25 acres per household, which are subdivisions made on communal land leases.  There is much uncertainty throughout the village about the contentious communal versus private land issue that is currently being debated between various indigenous factions including the Maya Leaders’ Alliance and The Citizens group.  Whichever way the village decide on the issue, the access road to the villagers’ farm land is one of the principal concerns raised among farmers, in order for them to better improve their agricultural efficiency.  The Toledo Cacao Growers Association (TCGA) also supports the village economy, and residents seem satisfied with the $2.20 per pound price currently offered by the association for well-fermented and well-dried cacao.  Before this alternative, village cacao production was kept at a subsistence level, and only small quantities were sold at the Punta Gorda market, or to neighbouring villages that occasionally sought to supplement their supply.
The one relatively recent problem to arise concerns the fundamental management of the village.  The Alcalde fulfils his role involving law and order in the community, and even the incidence of domestic violence (often excluded from an Alcalde’s priorities) is beginning to decrease.  However, the village Chairman is widely criticized as neglecting his role.  Last month, the Chairman, Mr Eduardo Coy, was asked by fellow councillors to call a village meeting to discuss issues and to arrange the well overdue fajina to distribute communal duties among villagers.  If he continues to delay this, the Vice Chairman, Mr Vicente Sackul, claims that he will have to follow the guidelines of the Village Council Act and independently call a meeting which may potentially overthrow the Chairman from his role.  Another issue related to this is the apparent absence of any financial reports from the council having been submitted either for the perusal of the villagers, or for the files in the Rural Development Office in Punta Gorda.  Villagers suspect that money may be unaccounted for in the budget, which explains the Chairman’s reluctance to submit his monthly report.
Due to this neglect on the part of the Chairman, villagers have independently organised themselves into labour groups, ensuring that even without the usual level of supervision, streets continue to be cleaned and communal help continues to be given to villagers (such as rallying groups to help with drying and storing rice).
On first impressions, the village seems far removed from the urban areas of Belize, but it is amazing the facilities that the villagers maintain for communal purposes.  The residents are proud of their natural heritage, encouraging people to visit the unique ceremonial cave with pictographs, or to take a tour around the Aguacaliente Lagoon Reserve, which provides employment for a couple of local guides from the village.  Laguna also boasted one of the first water pumping systems for villagers as early as the 1980s, and in the 1990s a community corn mill was established to assist the women with producing ground corn for making tortillas.  The village is also home to a computer centre, although the satellite-powered internet facilities are currently discontinued due to insufficient funds to meet the $175 monthly fee.  Similarly, the community library is currently closed due to administrative problems.  The health clinic is in desperate need of repair, causing visiting medics to create makeshift clinics in the community centre rather than use the poor clinic designed for this purpose; similarly, the school needs a little renovating, and one classroom in particular is persistently victim to flooding and poor drainage, which makes classes during heavy rains impossible without sharing classrooms.
Laguna has a remarkable history of providing for itself – sustainable agriculture, ecotourism and a focus on education has helped the village continue to develop.  However, current problems are increasingly hindering the village from continuing to move forward, and without external help from the Toledo district or the Belizean government, the village will struggle to continue its impressive developments over the coming years.  Laguna residents are aware of the predicament in which they find themselves, and welcome any truly beneficial support that will enable Laguna to continue progressing into the twenty-first century.

Voices of the Village is a weekly column that travels around the country, reporting on issues of concern or celebration in various villages throughout the six districts of the country.  This week, rather than focus on one village as usual, this column will focus on Garifuna villages in general, including Hopkins, Georgetown and Seine Bight (in the Stann Creek district) and Barranco (in the Toledo district).

Perhaps the first notable observation is that historically many Garifuna villages had particularly impermeable boundaries to other communities: aside from Punta Negra and Mullins River which are considered mixed Garifuna/Creole settlements, Hopkins and Seine Bight only ‘opened up’ with the development of the tourist industry in the past decade or so, and it is only in the past couple of years that a few stray Hispanic immigrants have settled in the entirely Garifuna village of Barranco.  For this insular impression, the Garifuna community for a long time struggled to gain acceptance from fellow members of Belizean society.  An acclaimed Garifuna historian and former executive of the National Garifuna Council, Godsman Ellis, blames ‘continuous persecution and oppression’ for this seemingly inapproachable behaviour, for they have been forced to develop strong intra-ethnic group ties in a bid for survival.  Thus other Belizean groups grew to view their national Garifuna counterparts as somewhat suspicious, and for centuries, the Garifuna were accused of devil-worship, polygamy, voodoo and speaking a secret language.  For fear of this ‘unknown’, few other Belizeans chose to visit Garifuna villages, meaning that the cultural beauty of these areas was largely hidden from public view for generations.

Even more problematic were the colonial authorities of the late nineteenth century which prohibited Garifuna individuals from owning land and considered them ‘squatters’  despite families farming the same parcels of land for decades previously.  For this reason, along with the centuries of persecution from their assumed Creole ‘superiors’, the Garifuna perceive themselves as more of an oppressed indigenous group than as an African ethnic group, and so they align more with Consejo de Indigenas rather than the United Black Association for Development (particularly because many Garifuna villages are located amid indigenous villages than Creole settlements).  Even so, sadly over the years several individuals saw the benefit of assimilating into Creole society as being greater than the inherent value of the Garifuna culture, which caused several families to discard their ethnic heritage and align themselves along black African roots rather than their own unique heritage.

It was only during the global movement towards cultural regeneration and preservation that the National Garifuna Council was established in 1981 to preserve various aspects of the Garifuna culture including language, music, food, dances, crafts, art and rituals.  The majority of Garifuna people were at this time proficient in Garinagu (the Garifuna language), and while many village residents chose to converse in their mother tongue at home, it was rarely used ‘in public’ (i.e. outside of Garifuna boundaries).  Thus Garifuna populations in urban areas (particularly in Dangriga and Punta Gorda, but also in Belize City and Belmopan) principally chose to conceal their mother tongue from neighbours and colleagues due to a fear of persecution.  Similarly, food was a well appreciated emblem of ethnicity, but the natural fish, banana and root vegetable based ingredients of dishes such as bundiga, tapou, darasa, hudutu and sahau was harder to acquire in the urban centres anyway, and so this remained a more rural symbol of ethnic heritage.  Dance, music and crafts, however, were increasingly forgotten throughout Garifuna settlements, and discarded as relics of an ancient past that were no longer applicable in modern society, as pop music and alternative past times proved more popular with younger generations.  As even remote villages became increasingly ‘globalised’, international television shows depicted an apparently glitzy life far removed from Garifuna traditions, and prompted further loss of indigenous heritage.

Barranco has not suffered as markedly as many other locations because it is well and truly ‘off the beaten track’ and so it remains far removed from decent infrastructure and social service networks, but when it was first inhabited the area must have been even less hospitable than today.  It is thought Barranco was founded in the early 1860s, around the same time as a small group of American confederates attempted to establish a community on the outskirts of PG but found the conditions too harsh.  It is a testimony to the resilience of those Garifuna residents inhabiting Barranco that they not only endured the harsh conditions, but seemingly thrived in them.

Hopkins is another fine example of endurance, in a manner similar to the residents of Hattieville who were mentioned in last week’s article.  Hopkins is the youngest of all Garifuna settlements in Belize, settled in 1942 by people from nearby Newtown, which was destroyed in a hurricane.  Rather than give up and further their suffering, Newtown residents who were brutally punished by the hurricane decided to relocate and recreate a new village to call ‘home’, away from the destruction, destitution and painful memories of the hurricane.  Somehow, when Hopkins was ‘discovered’ on the tourist scene, it managed to retain its dignity even despite increasing out-bidding of land and properties by North American ex-patriots (which is an even greater problem for the remaining Garifuna roots of Seine Bight too).

However, Hopkins residents are facing increasing problems and a group of socially-responsible residents recognised this and in 2006 established the GOOD charity, an acronym for the Garifuna Organisation for Ongoing Development.  This grassroots NGO attempts to provide opportunities of growth and community success by focusing mainly on youths, women and children of Hopkins.  GOOD identifies the most severe problems in the village being the loss of cultural Garifuna identity, drug addiction, alcoholism, poor HIV and AIDS awareness, neglect of children, and unsustainable environmental practices.  Despite the Garifuna community being a major contributor to the education sector on a national level (take Hopkins-born Gwen Nunez Gonzales’ contribution, for example), such local problems in Hopkins are put down to failing community education initiatives and an increasing segregation of formerly united community members.  Current project proposals include the establishment of a village library, a study hall equipped with computers, and vocational training courses in subjects such as tourism, carpentry and technology.

Seine Bight has a similar age to Barranco, having been settled around 1869, but the difference is that Seine Bight was occupied for centuries before the Garifuna arrival, and was already well recognised as a prime coastal location along the Placencia Peninsula before the Garifuna made the area even more productive.  The arrival in Seine Bight followed years of migrating around the area, under the leadership of Emmanuel ‘Walpy’ Moreira, who was determined to find the perfect location for a settlement; Seine Bight fit the bill perfectly.  Fishing was the mainstay of nearly all residents until the development of the Peninsula’s tourism industry, after which several families opened up guest houses or bars and restaurants to entertain visitors.  Seine Bight gives the impression of being one of the last approachable villages for ‘outsiders’ even in today’s merging world, and the naming of a local establishment as ‘Kulcha Shak’ shows the journey Garifuna villagers have been forced to traverse (willingly or not, as the case may be) as the area increasingly opens up to tourists and ex-patriots.  It seems that acceptance of the changing future of the village is increasing, and several villages are now eagerly anticipating the development of the largest fish farm in the Western Hemisphere, which is due to open close to the village next year.

The Garifuna culture has had no option but to embrace the ever-changing reality of increasing modernisation in Belize, and the success with which they have achieved this is remarkable.  The size constraint of this column is far too limited to bestow sufficient credit on the Garifuna people of contemporary Belize, and indeed there is barely enough room to even mention the various aspects of Garifuna life within each of the unique villages.  Suffice is to say that, while throughout Belizean society there are problems afflicting populations including increased drug abuse, unemployment and corruption, the Garifuna population are striving harder than ever to preserve their cultural heritage and therefore avoid the plagues of contemporary Belizean society.  Perhaps some of the most stable, reliable progress in Belize’s future could stem from Garifuna traditions, and from taking a leaf from the book of villages such as Hopkins, Seine Bight and Barranco.

Although one of the more recent villages of Belize, Hattieville has certainly seen a transformation over its short life since the village’s inception in 1961 following the devastating hurricane and subsequent storm surge that all but flattened Belize City.

Hattieville was initially conceived as a short-term refugee camp in the aftermath of Hurricane Hattie which wrought fatalities and injuries across the city.  The location of appropriately named ‘Hattieville’ was chosen due to its strategic location just 14 miles from Belize City, but slightly inland in order to protect its residents from the harshest consequences of future hurricanes and tsunamis.

However, even though the hurricane hit on October 31^st and the Hattieville camp was intended to be an immediate refuge for victims of the natural disaster, it wasn’t until December of that year that families were able to properly move into Hattieville Barracks.  Thousands of former city residents, made homeless and destitute during the hurricane, were offered accommodation in the camp, divided into alphabetically listed barracks, A-D on the northern side of the road, and J-M on the southern side, alongside the Red Cross Hospital which was established to provide much needed medical care and attention to the vulnerable arrivals.

Elderly residents of Hattieville remember that, prior to Hattie, the area was entirely uninhabited, and was made up of thick bushland with a mere narrow road leading through the vicinity.  Once the bushland was cleared and the camp boundaries constructed, long wooden buildings were erected to house the new arrivals.  Residents were divided into familial groups, and rooms in each structure were provided for each group, separated from their neighbours simply by roll-up canvas partitions.  In the early days, a gentleman on the outskirts of the camp was responsible for providing food for the residents, although relatively quickly a communal fire-heart was created which was long enough to accommodate several women cooking for their families at any one time.

A group of North American Mennonites also resided in the area, and helped with the distribution of rations and schooling for the children.  Christmas of that year (and several years to come) was made bearable because of these Mennonites, who donated present parcels to the children of Hattieville.  Although Hattieville had been designed as an emergency short-term solution to the destruction of Belize City, the barrack-style camp remained inhabited (unbelievably) for almost a decade, before most people were able to acquire their own parcel of land and construct their houses, or were able to rebuild from the wreckage of Belize City and return to their former neighbourhoods.  During these years of habitation, Hattieville grew to provide just about every service required by its residents, and in the mid-1960s Hattievile was considered by many as the place to party!  However, by the 1970s, as people dispersed and returned to their City homes, Hattieville began to lose some of its former glory and became a quiet commuter village, servicing the City with an oversized village labour force.

Today, it seems many of the long-standing residents of Hattieville wish for a return of the ‘good old days’, when construction jobs were in full supply and Hattieville was a lively village.  Now, villagers see that despite the UDP pre-election campaign promising new employment opportunities (including a fruit processing plant in the village), the reality is a little more bleak.  There are very few local job opportunities for Hattieville residents, and even the companies located there (such as BWEL) are allegedly more likely to employ outsiders than village residents.  It is a similar story with the Hattieville High School, which was promised as an incentive to encourage more primary school graduates to continue their education, but the reality is that high school students are still forced to commute to Belize City or elsewhere in order to acquire their tuition.

However, such problems have not discouraged people moving to Hattieville in more recent years, as crime spirals out of control in Belize City.  This new influx is largely housed within the new housing site further along the Western Highway (right up until about Mile 17), which is compared to other affluent outer suburbs of Belize City.  ‘Old Hattieville’, however, remains somewhat run-down and poorly serviced, but it is this area (closest to the Boom roundabout) which truly maintains the essence of the village.

Both areas, however, have suffered a serious lack of refuse removal services for over a year, and only households with private vehicles are able to collect their rubbish and dump it outside the village boundaries (which is gradually encroaching on village land, and making the entrance roads to Hattieville appear dishevelled and uncared for).  Several villages put this down to the neglect of the current UDP administration, and most residents are left to dispose of their garbage within makeshift holes in their own back yards.  This pollution, it is thought, is affecting ground water supplies, and villagers are vocal in their complaints of this, since over the decades the Hattieville creek has deteriorated from providing an ample supply of fish (such as tuba, crawna, mus-mus and base snook) to containing negligible quantities of anything.  Residents are also complaining of decreasing yields from fruit trees throughout the village, which used to provide plentiful crops such as golden plum and mango, and which now only provide on a very basic subsistence level.  Iguanas are one of the few species which continue to be plentiful during the breeding months of June to August, and it is no surprise that many villages are forced to illegally catch and sell iguana on the road side to supplement their dwindling incomes.

Another source of revenue has been discovered in the sale of herbs and natural remedies, although the sale of marijuana continues to be the most widespread ‘herb’ sold throughout the village.  And although Hattieville has a reputation for its weed-smokers, there are only rare cases of serious problems with harder drugs, such as crack and cocaine.  Fortunately, the small scale of the drug-using population ensures that crime remains at a low rate, and people in the older areas of the village still claim to feel secure to sleep with their doors open and their possessions unsecured at night.

Hattieville is a tranquil haven compared to the chaos, confusion and crime in Belize City, but any village so close to the urban hubbub is unlikely to remain immune to concurrent urban problems without a unified and wide-reaching program involving all sectors of village residents.  And as economic strain is increasing throughout Belize, Hattieville continues to suffer poor employment rates and an increasing perception of destitution.  Villagers are increasingly feeling desperate for governmental support (such as last month, when a spokesperson for the village called a radio morning show to claim that if dirt trucks would simply be provided for the villager’s use, the community would rally together to organise a refuse disposal service using the trucks provided).  And while the village’s council used to receive support from the former government, the UDP has provided no such assistance to the village council since taking over the government last year (could it still be holding a grudge for a PUP chairlady being voted in place of her UDP counterpart?).

Hattieville has proved itself as a vibrant village, able to survive even the most enduring hardships.  But, despite the first impressions of a progressive village, with excellent community services (including a relatively recently opened Chinese-owned supermarket), it must not be forgotten that original Hattieville residents are united in one factor: they experienced the very worst effects of Hurricane Hattie almost 50 years ago.  They were the Belize City residents who were so catastrophically affected by the hurricane that they daringly embraced an entirely new way of rural life, and worked together to transform Hattieville from a refugee camp into a viable village. These people are certainly not afraid of change and hard work, and they certainly cannot be labelled as demanding; all they ask is that the government help the village with its most basic services to ensure that community life continues progressing forwards, instead of slipping backwards.  Which is, after all, surely the essence of development for any community, in any country, that any decent government should be willing to provide.

Just over a month ago, the village of Xaibe in Corozal celebrated the 59^th birthday of the PUP wholeheartedly, warmly embracing the visit by the Party Leader, Hon. John Briceño, and members of the Party Executive.  The village has the appearance of a flourishing hamlet, bustling with activity, and always well maintained and carefully kept.  However, despite the emphasis on appearance and community solidarity, there are many underlying issues that are cause for concern at present.

The 2000 Census recorded 1254 residents of Xaibe village, but the village continues to grow and now takes up several square miles of land, neatly divided into relatively decent-sized residential lots.  The village boasts a well-maintained school, numerous grocery shops, a hardware store, a cybernet cafe and a swimming pool-cum-bar with intentions of opening a golf course and tilapia farm on site (although sensible members of the electorate are well advised to steer clear of the latter, as the landlord holds a misplaced grudge against the PUP and is quite venomous in his rambling political soliloquies).

The village as a whole has repeatedly voted the PUP village council, headed by the enigmatic Luciano Noh, for over 6 years and community affairs have – according to nearly all residents – worked well under the current council.  However, as is the case throughout Belize, finances are getting tighter and employment opportunities scarcer, and villagers from Xaibe are not immune to ‘feeling the pinch’.  Shop-keepers complain of heightened competition between vendors, a situation made worse by the overall decreasing demand for goods as more villagers are forced to rely on contraband Mexican goods solely to be able to provide for themselves and their families as inflation continues to afflict rural communities throughout our country.

The majority of villagers made their wealth during the climax of the sugar cane industry, and villagers are grateful to the past economy for having provided houses and land which, in today’s tight times, would be impossible to acquire.  However, the labour force of Xaibe today has forcibly become more fluid, adjusting to new industries and job vacancies that will at least provide a bare minimum salary, such as at the nearby Fruta Bomba papaya farm, and in the retail and service industry in the Free Zone and border Casinos.  For those who have not been able to secure employment locally, many have left the village to join more promising tourist industries in the Cayes and elsewhere in the country, although the current economic crisis is warranting many of these to suffer un- (or under-) employment too.

Regardless of the financial hardships experienced by most of Xaibe’s residents, there is still an admirable level of community solidarity and cooperation within the village.  The latest objective, adopted by an active volunteer group of 10 people, is the creation of a community park adjacent to the school.  This movement has received unwavering support from nearly all community members, and villagers have contributed time and resources to assist in the first stages of this project.  Already, land has been cleared and a trail prepared for the construction phase of the walkway, envisaged to follow the circumference of the park.  The village has a remarkable (and well organised) record of fundraising for the community park; initiatives have included a fair, a 5-aside marathon, the sale of BBQ, a talent show, tombolas, the sale of donated food and drink, and a grand raffle of the latest SMART phone.  There is no doubting that the park is something wanted – and needed – by community residents, and with local donations exceeding $1000 in profit, and the repeated volunteering of almost 30 village men to clear the land for the site, it could be presumed that the park is now well on the way to completion.  However, the village was forced to make an unenviable decision, after the NGO Humana People to People promised financial support and were then not forthcoming in actually donating it.  The village chairman, speaking on behalf of the village group, announced last month that the village would no longer depend on Humana People to People for support, and they had informed the NGO that they wanted no more communication with them.  There is a little uncertainty as to what triggered this decision, although villagers continue to fundraise, and the group recently purchased a bulk load of second hand clothing in order to re-sell and generate further funds to be used once the creation of the park re-starts.

It is rare that a grassroots village group is as proactive and successful as in Xaibe, partly because of divisions and discrepancies that invariably arise and divide the movement.  In Xaibe, however, residents remain as unified and supporting as ever, which further advocates the fact that any such village deserves to have a community park as it will be used for beneficial purposes that will further unite residents.  The long-term goal is to also create a pavilion in the centre of the park that will act as a performance stage and a place from which to deliver community speeches.

Despite these hard times, residents of Xaibe are striving to improve their standard of living, and to encourage the younger generations to stay in the village as opposed to seeking employment and futures elsewhere.  With limited support from the current national administration, and decreasing job opportunities on a national scale, it can only be hoped that the government will begin to make amends by reversing the current economic crisis and empowering the community to further realise their ambitions for the village of Xaibe.  Until then, it is understandable that numerous villagers feel neglected and have striven to promote the status and services of Xaibe without the financial support of the government or other outside organisations.  Determination and dedication are common sentiments in Xaibe, which continues to give hope that, for this village at least, the future may have a happier ending than many other places in Belize.