Dirty Girl.

It was beginning to rain as my Berkeley graduate boyfriend drove the golf cart down the heavily pot-holed dirt road in Belize. I was in the back of the cart holding on to our two large pieces of luggage getting a massive forearm workout sitting spread eagle trying to keep the bags in the cart while water pelted me in the neck. I screamed "pull over." He did and I hopped out of the back and flipped the windshield up from the front of the golf cart and clicked it into place. Kyle was simply bemused. "Wow I didn't realize it did that" he exclaimed as I hopped back into my place to grab the bags wondering how I was waitlisted at schools while he was recruited. "What did you think they did in the rain normally?" He didn't know. 

He drove on over the massive chunks missing in the road kicking up wet mud onto my arms and body as the rain hit me from all sides, particularly while sliding off the roof of the car and dropping down my back. The road bumps had been very entertaining throughout the trip and there were times when I was driving over them that I laughed so hard it hurt. We had enjoyed our bumpy road the whole trip, but I was feeling a bit of dread knowing this would be a very long travel day for us and I was already getting filthy before 8am. He stayed dry though because of my "genius" use of plexiglass. I can't say I was pleased in the back getting muddier and muddier by the second while being catapulted up from my seat frequntly and landing back to the foam bench in back breaking plops while death gripping luggage on wheels that kept rolling precariously close to the edge of the golf cart platform ready to drop to the ground. With rain picking up and drenching me more or little Belizian children would run towards us demanding money or when I had to pee so badly it hurt were Kyle's favorite times to slow down and look at birds. "A plover!" He yelled back at me while sitting dry in the front of the cart and driving off road to get a closer look at a fucking bird that is seemingly native everywhere. Mud hits my face. "Fucking drive." I yell back, my forearms swelling with lactic acid like the hulk. 

We arrived to the boat and compared our looks. His sleeve had gotten a few raindrops, I pulled my wet shorts from my crotch and fanned my thighs hoping to stave off a yeast infection while chunking dried mud off my arms. 

We took a ferry back to the mainland of Belize then began the second part of our adventure for the day. The zoo! I had read online about the Belize City Zoo and a special Directors Tour of the zoo which while expensive, was supposedly worth the money (spoiler it absolutely was worth every penny and was incredible from start to finish). We met the zoo director (Sharon) and she began to show us around the zoo. It was fascinating. We met and pet many animal ambassadors that were at the zoo after being rescued from death and used as training tools to teach Belizians not to fear the animals. We pet a barn owl who was going to be drown because its legends that they are ghosts since their screech and silent flight is scary. She was not. We held a boa constrictor around our necks, which felt fantastic. The zoo was in the rainforest area and extremely hot and humid. The cold blooded snake felt like a cool handkerchief on my neck and I enjoyed holding her. We fed parrots, some endangered, some just weird who played on the ground "nesting" despite being male and in the cage with another male. We fed tapirs which had been feared for being violent but are more akin to tiny happy elephants. I scratched a baby tapir on his belly till he rolled over and fell asleep. We dumped cheap perfume on the round and watched as kinkajous vigorously scrubbed the perfume into their tails as they are pack animals and use scent to identify their pack members. We fed a harpy eagle chicken gizzards by hand. When I first walked and saw this bird I stopped in my tracks and my jaw dropped. It looked fake. It looked like something from a Greek myth that would block your path or peck out your stomach as a punishment from a goddess. It was a frightening and jarring giant bird. When we got to feed it I went first since the bird liked women more. He took the chicken gizzards from my hand and was just a beautiful creature. But after I fed it I looked at my hands. When cooking at home I eat vegetarian food only. I don't like to touch meat at all. I have cooked chicken and been so disgusted that I had touched the chicken when it was raw that once it was cooked I threw it away unable to stomach it. I have such an aversion to it I went veg. And here I was standing with chicken gizzards on my hand in the jungle and no sink and soap in sight. I walked over to Kyle and wiped my hands on his shirt and delicately took the camera to catch a picture of him feeding the eagle. 

We moved on the the jaguar experience part of the day. It was like a reverse swimming with shark experience (which we had also done on this trip). We cage ourselves inside of the jaguar enclosure and tempted by meat and training the jaguar walked over top of us on the cage while we pet his fur, feet, and even got licked on the face by him. It was again so cool. His tongue felt extremely rough and it made sense that they clean their hunt with their tongues. It was a strong tongue and it had licked both of our faces. We left the cage and fed the jaguar liver. I don't even know what animal that it came from. Maybe a chicken? Maybe a cow? I don't know. But I know I touched it to feed the jaaguar. Again it was very cool but I finished and knew I had just touched a meat I would never dared to touch even cooked. Sharon offered me her handkerchief to wipe my hands on. I did but I thought of how often that was used and how much raw animal juices were all over that cloth in the extreme heat on a daily basis.  Finally after several other feedings we pet an alligator. Kyle was afraid since the unconstrained gator could probably smell the raw chicken and other meat on our hands. I didn't even consider it but see that was a very astute fear. When our tour finished I had sweat so much I could feel my skin breaking out. We said our goodbyes to Sharon who had one mosquito after another filling themselves with blood from her eyelids, cheeks, upper lips, ears, and every other piece of skin exposed. She was at least in sleeves and pants, I was in a jacket and shorts but ditched the jacket when the heat was so oppressive I was beginning to sway. I could only imagine how many mosquitoes had taken their drunken fill on my face. I rinsed my face off in the sink and shook my face to dry it off. Kyle and I made our way with our luggage to the bus stop ready to wait for a chicken bus to fetch us (we had taken a pricey cab into the zoo). 

A man in a new pick up truck pulled to the side of the road and yelled "do you want a ride?" I don't know why, but I believe it was the combination of extreme heat, humidity, raw meat on my shirt (yes I wiped on my shirt too), mud caked legs, and overall feeling of being a walking used tampon of filth that I yelled back "YES" and looked at Kyle with utter fear but excitement. We got into the car with the well dressed Scottish man and I sat in the back wondering what the fuck I had just done. Oh my god I'm hitchhiking. This is so stupid I thought. Why would Kyle let me do this? I had apparently had a heat stroke and already forgotten it was I who jumped into the truck first at the excitement of air conditioning for the first time in five days. I immediately started looking for some sort of weapon just in case the man tried to pull something on us. I only had a pin on my backpack from a company meeting and bug spray. Bug spray would surely sting the eyes I thought and I took the pin off and held it in my hands between knuckles. I also thought if he tries something I want evidence so I plucked some hair from my ponytail and chewed a nail off to leave in the car. I wasn't sure how effective Belizian authorities would be but I hoped it would be enough. It was on the plane ride home that I watched a special about how hair sample analysis is very imprecise and sometimes even finger prints. Thankfully that was after the hitchhiking but more good news beyond that was the Scottish man was just nice and working in the area and drove us to the bus station in the city.

Yes. We were still traveling. For the day so far I had been mud soaked in a golf cart, covered in sunscreen from the ferry ride to mainland, had raw animal juices all over me, and then dried off completely in a wonderful air conditioned Ford pickup truck only to be several hours early at a bus station waiting for an overnight bus to Mexico. The bus station benches were broken and Kyle and I hadn't much to eat all day and the snacks at the bus station would surely cause diarhhea as a best case scenario. You had to pay for toilet paper in the bathrooms and naturally they didn't have any soap. After hours of waiting in the heat again for the bus it was time to board. It was thankfully air conditioned and very dark. I went to nap knowing in a few hours we would arrive at the Mexican border and I had read what to expect. It said the transfer over the border would take hours, but the bus was practically empty so I had high and incorrect hopes for a quicker than average transit. I wanted to rest my head in Kyle's lap, but then I remembered rubbing animal liver and chicken gizzards on his shirt and tried to nuzzle against the bouncing bus window instead. Kyle was asleep instantly while I enjoyed the A.C. and draped a sweat soaked jacket over my legs. I eventually got up and meandered to the bus bathroom at around 10pm. It wasn't ideal with the toilet paper in the sink, but at least it had some and I peed and did my business. Being a small bathroom and so dirty it took me longer than average to pull up my shorts. Maybe 5 second, but as I reached around backwards to pull up the toilet opened like a succubus releasing a steam engine gasping sound and simultaneously sucked out my pee (I hadn't flushed yet) and sprayed the entire bathroom with what I pray was toilet water. My back, bare legs, shorts, and maybe up to my neck were generously spritzed with toilet water as was the bathroom mirror, the sink, and the sink toilet paper. I stared in the mirror in aghast horror considering if I should try to clean the bathroom up. I opted not to in case the toilet demon struck again and I waddled uncomfortably to my seat even filthier than before. Now I started to concentrate on not needing to pee for the rest of the trip which just made my bladder fill even quicker. I take hydration seriously and had been a diligent drinker but now I wanted to avoid my powerade in hopes of avoiding bus toilet herpes water or worse. Again this exasterbated the problem and by the time we made it to the Belizian border I darted off to the border patrol and into the bathroom. No toilet seats, no toilet paper, no soap. It was fine. We proceeded slowly through the border then got back onto the bus and drove a few miles to the Mexican border patrol. It is here where our traveling slowed substantially. 

The driving distance from Belize City to Tulum should take about 5 hours. The bus left a bit before 8pm and was set to arrive in Tulum around 4am. Something didn't add up time wise. That part was Mexico. We went off the bus and were told to sit and fill out some forms. I sat on a bench under a light and felt something drop into my hair. I brushed the object down and what I thought was a moth landed on my leg. I quickly and squimishly flicked it off with Kyle watching over me. He was comforting me as I asked what it was. He said oh a bug. We moved on from one border booth to the next with our bus of 15-20 people. At the final building we sat for about an hour alone in the building. The bus driver honked at the building trying to get a patrol guard to notice and finish the process. I peed again without toilet paper in the bathroom. At this point I was so disgusted in my body that I used my t-shirt to wipe because fuck it 'when in Mexico' I thought. Piss on a t-shirt was better than waiting for my shorts to dry out for the hundredth time that day. Without a guard available our bus took to sleeping-ish on the floor in the border patrol room. Finally a guard came and finished our process and we loaded back onto the bus. To get over the two borders had taken probably close to 3 hours for 15-20 people and very little distance. I had given up on myself at this point and laid down in Kyle's shirt filth to continue sleeping. 

We arrived in Tulum in the late hours of the wee morning. People were still stumbling around in bars as we haphazardly dragged our baggage down the street to find our Airbnb. My body had turned into a divining rod looking for a shower and I miraculously noticed a street sign covered almost completely in stickers across  the street from an unlit shop that looked to say Orion. I knew our Airbnb was on Orion. The steet sign barely had the words Orion and I told Kyle. He was amazed. I am directionally challenged to put it nicely and I had just spotted a nearly covered street sign. Some say it was luck, but I know the truth. God was protecting me from my entire body from breaking out in dirty skin leprosy and he was guiding me towards my shower like the Egyptians out of the desert. Kyle opened the door to the Airbnb. A waft of heat burst forth from the door and I stared dagger at Kyle. Before I could speak he interrupted my thoughts. "It said it has air conditioning I swear, ok look see its a wall unit we can turn on". That was fine. I turned on the water that remained cold and started to scrub with a towel in the shower. There weren't any washcloths. It had been nearly 24 hours of pure grime and it was the dirtiest I had ever been. My skin showed it. 

Mexico remained hot but Kyle and I finally had air conditioned rooms. At breakfast the next morning I saw what looked like an antenna pop up in between the table slats at the adorable restaurant Kyle and I had chosen to eat at. I looked up the table and saw nothing amiss. Kyle kept talking as normal. When we finally left Tulum and our favorite breakfast spot Kyle let me in on a secret. It was a cockroach that had fallen on my hair then leg at the Mexican border and a cockroach that had been popping up like a game of South American whack-a-mole at our breakfast spot and Kyle had been kind enough to swat it down each time or cover it with his food plate. 

The rest of the trip went very well and at times luxurious. Sandy beach massages, moped rides at subset, dips into pools with hammocks, and the like. It was a trip that stayed with me and I'm not talking about the week of subsequent diarrhea that came home with me. But that zoo day will stand out the most. It takes a day that cool to help wash off the memories of how dirty I was. And thank goodness I didn't know it was a cockroach at the time.