A Distant Valentine

Eighteen years ago our country was at war with Iraq. It was a time of uncertainty not unlike today, actually. Before that war people could walk back to the gates and waiting areas in an airport as their loved ones either departed or arrived. That all changed about the time Pastor Dad and I were making arrangements to leave the country.

It was Valentine's Day 2001 when we flew to Belize to spend almost two weeks with missionary friends. Immediately after some people hear that we traveled to Belize they say things like, "Oh! I've been there!" I seriously doubt it. I'm not disputing that they landed at the Belize Airport but most of the time when someone says they've "been to Belize" they mean that they waited at the airport until they could board their charter flight to the Cayes where they vacationed at the resorts. We, on the other hand, experienced the non-touristy parts of the country.

When we left Nashville early that morning the city was experiencing a nasty cold snap. When we flew into Belize the temperature was almost 80 degrees higher than it had been in Nashville earlier that day. The people there had sweaters and knit caps on all of the babies because they were also experiencing a cold snap. It was only 100 degrees. :D

Our church in TN sponsored a mission work in the interior that was ready to become independent to the point that our missionary could move elsewhere and start another preaching point. Pastor Dad and I went to help them celebrate the occasion.

Our youngest daughter, the Princess, was less than 3 years old at the time. All she understood was that there were policemen all over the airports all of a sudden. In typical childish fashion she heard what she heard and not what was really said. We found out after we returned that she had told anyone who asked that her parents had gone to the airport with the police. This was what the 32 month old girl understood from our explanation that we had to go to the airport to fly to Belize. Understandable misinterpretation. :)

I enjoyed the trip tremendously. I had an opportunity to teach the ladies of the church and to fellowship with our missionaries. They drove us around the country to see the beautiful scenery, meet their Mennonite friends in a nearby community, visit Mayan ruins, and to shop in a nearby Guatemalan village. We also drove up to Mexico for a few days of civilization. We had some scary moments in the no-man's-land between the Guatemalan and Belizian borders as the Belizian border patrol considered whether to let us back in. Guatemala didn't want us back either! That was not a nice feeling as our brains quickly started calculating what our options would be if we were stuck for long in that area between the two countries.

When we returned to the USA we landed first in New Orleans. We had been told all sorts of stories about how hard it could be to get through customs and I'm sure that this might be true for some. In my case the lady at the desk went calmly through the handmade basket I was carrying then looked at me and said warmly, "Welcome home." I wanted to hug her. Words had never sounded so wonderful. I was home! We exchanged smiles before I left to find the first aid station so that a real doctor could look at the grapefruit-sized mosquito bite on my leg. That was a little souvenir I picked up in Mexico.