When we first moved to a more remote area here in western Belize, we left the relative comfort of knowing that hospitals and doctors were just a 10-minute drive away in the center of San Ignacio town. Out here in the jungle, my thoughts go down a crazy rabbit hole — “Ok, if I get bitten by a Fer-de-Lance, what do I do? Who has the antivenom and can I get there in time?” or “If Jim falls off a ladder while on one of his wacky DYI projects, how am I going to get him into the 4Runner and to a hospital a half an hour drive away or to the better hospital an hour drive away?” I do tend to “take it down the road” as we say in my family, but the reality is that these thoughts aren’t overreactions. It could all happen.
It’s a little better now that there’s an ambulance in the village and we have a network of people we can “sound the alarm” to on an emergency chat group, but catastrophes in our area are things to prepare for, right down to making sure you have blood in credit at the “bank.” When someone needs blood, I’ll see a frantic post on social media searching for donors. A few years ago, one of those emergency chats called for blood donations for a neighbor down the road who had been rushed to the hospital. The blood didn’t make it in time.
There are devastating motorcycle and car accidents, kidney failure from diabetes, bleeding ulcers, cancer — and while healthcare for Belizeans here is relatively inexpensive and free in some cases, there are still specialists needed, sometimes a trip to Guatemala City or Merida, Mexico, for better treatment options or at least better technology. For that, you need money and a fundraiser, but instead of posting a GoFundMe, Belizeans cook.
Every weekend, there are multiple barbeques and food sales to raise funds for a loved ones’ medical issue. Chicken and slabs of pork sizzle on the grill in the village park to be picked up or delivered. I can order tamales or bollos filled with a bit of chicken wing and a rich, red recado sauce made with annatto seeds and other spices. There hasn’t been a week yet when we haven’t bought food to help pay for someone’s medical care.
At first, I thought, “So, how is my $10 Belize ($5 US) for a plate of BBQ chicken with rice and beans and plantain or the six tamales I bought for a buck each going to make a dent in a three-thousand-dollar medical bill?”
But that’s not what it’s about, not entirely. A few weeks ago, a message went out on a Whatsapp group for a local Maya culture group we’re part of asking for help for one of the group members who needed to go to Guatemala for an operation. The team organized a BBQ sale in the village center, and volunteers were asked to bring chicken, containers and rice and beans to cook up and serve in the community.
When Jim and I got there, cars were being dispatched, piled high with orders going to homes and businesses all over the village and beyond. People had been cooking since early morning, and it seemed like the entire village was out to help, if not to volunteer, then to buy food. Not only did they raise funds for that one person, but they did so in a way that ensures everyone could afford to contribute. They let everyone know that the community cares and will be there to cook whenever and wherever it’s needed. 