Journal Entry 3

August 9th, 1976 / Belize City, Belize:

I have not written a word for two days because I have been experiencing what is commonly called "culture shock." It manifests itself in a deep depression. I did not sleep at all Friday or Saturday night. Also, I could not eat anything. I was quite miserable for those two days. Sunday morning, I called Barbara Harris, the Peace Corps Administrative Assistant, to inform her of my condition. She drove by, picked me up and took me to her house where I visited with her husband and her father-in-law out on their veranda. They understood the problem and tried to console me. She said that "culture shock" is common and that it would pass with time. While at her house, Reggie (Peace Corps Director) stopped by to borrow a tub for cold drinks for a reception at his house that evening. Reggie invited me to go along with him while he did various errands. He took time to introduce me to three or four volunteers who encouraged me.

That evening I attended the reception that Reggie hosted for us new volunteers. I tried to mingle but was not in a party mood. It was a bit of a "stuffy" affair, and that was not what I really needed at the time.

I slept reasonably well that night for the first time, and I woke up in the morning feeling better. I ate a substantial breakfast and reported to the Peace Corps office at 8:15 a.m. to begin training. Later, I enjoyed lunch and ate a good dinner. Maybe I have suffered the last of the "culture shock."

I am staying with a Miss Pepitune who runs a small boarding house on Prince Street. She is nice and was quite concerned while I was feeling so poorly. There are two other boarders here. One, Olivia, is a girl about 20 years old who is a secretary at the Coca Cola Company. She will be leaving in a month for Miami where she is to train as an airline stewardess for a new Belizean airline. The other boarder is a young man, Manuel, about 23 years old, who just graduated from law school in Jamaica. He graduated #1 in his class (I saw it in the newspapers) and is working in the public prosecutor's office. He is a knowledgeable person and is interesting to talk to.

Today we had our first full day of training. We are holding our classes at a school, Belize Secondary School Number One [E.P. Yorke High School], out on Princess Margaret Drive, about three miles from where I am staying. Today's agenda consisted of a brief lecture on training in general, personal interviews, an interesting lecture on the history of the Creole language, and two hours of Spanish language training. I did not learn much from the interview-I still do not know where I will be serving in Belize. Colville Young, PhD, spoke about the history of the Creole language. Creole is the one language all people of Belize speak. We have two Spanish instructors-one for those with some Spanish ability (some volunteers can speak it quite well) and one for the rest of us with little or no knowledge of the language. I was placed in the latter group. The instruction is strictly conversational and quite frustrating for some. I did okay. Training was over for the day at 4:00 p.m. I was driven home and ate dinner about 5:30 p.m.

I was shocked at what I saw when I first arrived in Belize City. I had never seen such apparent squalor. Neighborhoods consist of mostly ramshackle, unpainted, wooden houses and shops that stand right on the edge of the street with virtually no setback or front yard. The house where I am staying (Miss Pepitune's) is better than average and is quite clean and tidy on the inside. We are experiencing an extremely hot spell, and even the locals are complaining. My bedroom is a six by eight-foot cell with one small window. No breeze blows through the house, and it is quite uncomfortable at night. Most of the new PCVs were placed in homes in pairs. I, however, am the lone PCV in my home. I am sure it is harder for me that way.

The pace of life is quite slow here, and I think it will take me a while to adjust. Today I experienced my first bout of diarrhea. I do not know if Miss Pepitune boils her water, as Peace Corps insists, and I do not want to ask her. The male volunteers are basically a good group of regular guys. Some of the women, however, especially when compared to the local young women who tend to fix themselves up nicely, seem to be a bit plain-Earth Mother types. Manuel has told me that he has also observed that.

I am listening now to Radio Belize. It is a medium wave station, about 80 KHz. It is fairly entertaining-some U.S. music. There are forty thousand people in this city. Although that is not a large number, they are packed together quite closely. So, with only 40,000 people, Belize City, the cultural and commercial hub of the country, has all the problems of a much larger city. Many Peace Corps Volunteers eat at Mom's Restaurant. It serves hamburgers! Nights do not cool off. We are in the dry season. We have electricity and cold water that runs intermittently. When there is not adequate water pressure, we manually pump the water into a barrel on the roof, and it flows through the pipes by gravity. Nobody, however, completely fills the barrel, so timing a shower is vital. There are many barking dogs in the neighborhood and roosters that crow at 5:00 a.m.

[Photo is of Hydes Lane, not Prince Street, but you get the idea.]

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