Would You Like a Side of Cheese With That Hurricane?

Growing up in West Virginia has all but guaranteed that I am not familiar with how to prepare for a hurricane, much less survive one. And never did I think I would have to until the one fateful summer that my friend Suby and I chose to schedule our big trip to Belize  in the midst of hurricane season. In retrospect, I am not quite sure that the  combination of our destination, its tropical location and the time of the year registered even once on our list of precautions. (Also not registered on the radar of important things: a swimsuit. For some reason, Suby did not deem it necessary to bring one on our beach vacation.)

We arrive in the country and almost immediately learn that Hurricane Dean is well on his way. This causes  more than a little concern. We opt to get all of the water activities out of the way before he arrives so that our vacation is not a complete waste of time and money. Once these are accomplished, we head for  higher ground. San Ignacio seemed like the place to be, especially since it is only nine miles from the Guatemalan border and Guatemala was our next destination.   There was plenty to do in San Ignacio, and it was supposedly safe from the major effects of Dean. Not the only travelers possessed with this idea, we arrive to find that the town is packed and there is hardly a room within our piddly budget to be found. Furthermore, to add dismay to one already unfolding disaster, we hear from the locals that there is flooding in Guatemala and it is apparently in or near the area where we need to go. This is really great news as we have no alternate plan, no friends or family in the area, and clearly, Suby has no swimsuit in case we need to swim out of San Ignacio.

The only sure activity on our agenda at this point was that Dean was coming. That much we knew for certain. Undaunted by Deany boy,  we opted to make the most of the time we had until he blew in and head out the next day to do some things locally; boating into caves, visiting some museums, etc. You know, all the normal stuff you do while waiting for impending disaster. After all the pre-hurricane festivities,  we arrive back into the center of town to find it in a frenzy of activity. People are scurrying about, boarding up windows and buying supplies.  The  implications of what we are seeing finally start to sink in.  A hurricane is coming! A real, honest-to-goodness, the kind you see on the news, hurricane.  What do we do? Suby is from Dallas, Texas, and I am from West Virginia. Neither of those locations are really in the path of this type of disaster.  We are unsure of how to proceed but it is quite clear that some sort of action must be taken. So, we took a cue from our friendly and ever-vigilant media outlets in the US who like to broadcast from the bread aisle of supermarkets in the midst of storms and headed off to find the nearest place to buy groceries.  Everyone seems to be stockpiling something and we feel that we should as well. Now, what to stockpile?  Milk? Nah, powdered gross Belizean stuff. Chocolate? Yes, but not a necessity in this crisis. Meat? No refrigeration. Cheese? Nah. Hmmm. Wait. Yes, cheese! Now at this point, you may wonder why we decided upon cheese. And, at this point, you should stop wondering,  because there really is no answer.  All you need to know is that we triumphantly exited that little store, clutching our cheese. When we eventually  found bread at another store, it was as if we had hit the lottery. We were ready to sit back and wait. Suby, me, bread, and cheese. Good times. Not wanting to wait by ourselves with only our ever-growing sense of panic to dwell upon,  we traipsed off to a bar/restaurant so that we wouldn't feel so alone (and by alone, I mean terrified). As even they were closing early to prepare, it was apparent that we were not going to find much solace in the company of others.  Trudging back to our room with only our cheese and gloomy thoughts,  we considered the flooding before us and the  hurricane coming behind us. What to do?          

I will just go ahead and alleviate some suspense now and tell you that after a tense evening watching scrambled television and listening to the sounds of the storm, Dean blew right through San Ignacio leaving only a rain calling card. The crisis was averted, leaving only one all-encompassing question:  what to do with the cheese? Suby wanted to sell it to the people in the next room, but considering that our very lives had just been spared,  I felt selling our package of emergency cheese would be a bit too ruthless.  We gave them both the bread and cheese, packed up our stuff, and hightailed it to the border.

PS. I could not find the picture above in any of my online albums, so its grainy appearance is due to the fact that I took a picture of a picture. Ingenuity at its finest. That is sort of what landed us in the whole Belizean hurricane, cheese- hoarding mess in the first place! Next time I hope we will consider age-old weather patterns before venturing to ports afar.