Showing posts with label water. Show all posts
Showing posts with label water. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

belize travel tips (a drinking lesson)


for the past few days i've been a bit ill. most likely, it's just an extended visit by our fiesty friend, traveler's diarrhea (TD). i'll spare you the gory details of my present acquaintance with the fellow, but if you're considering a trip to belize, you may want to know a few things about TD--you know, stuff like who are his friends? where's he hang out on friday nights?

well, since you asked, TD is a party animal compared to his tropical peers. malaria, typhoid fever, yellow fever, and the cureless dengue fever buzz about in mosquitos and noseums, but TD spends his times in bars, restaurants, and your refrigerator. he's a colorful fellow, that TD, but rumor has it, he has a rather sordid past. the internet tells me that TD first arrived on the scene in the form of fecal matter and that he now makes his home in our food or drinking water. yummmmm.

now, if you travel to belize, your doctors will probably warn you about TD. they'll say "don't drink the water" or "don't eat uncooked vegetables or peeled fruits," but perhaps it'd be more effective to say "don't drink the fecal water" or "avoid those fecal fruits." still, despite my current bout with something rather similar to TD,
i recommend ignoring those doctors and drinking that crisp belizean agua. once you arrive in belize, you'll find that nearly all the major restaurants, hotels, and tour agencies claim that their water and ice is purefied, so unless you drink from a bucket, gargle sea water, or wander into roadside shack, you'll probably be fine.

moreover, at some point in your travel through belize, you may experience what i like to call a
brazen drinking moment. i first experienced something like this during my visit to gimmewald, switzerland.

after spending the night in an overbooked hostel, i strapped on my 50 pound pack and started up a trail. i was heading for that small dot on my rick steve's map of the alps. the dot appeared to be near the top of a mountain, and as i climbed up and up into the sun, i realized belatedly that i only packed one bottle of water. after several miles, the bottle was empty and i was parched. my climb became secondary to the search for water. but there were no sparkling streams or cool mountain rivers, just cow troughs. i passed one and then another. the third trough was fed by a wooden pipe that vanished into the hillside above my trail. clear liquid cascaded from the pipe into the metal receptacle below. i was panting. i loosened my pack and pulled the empty bottle from an outside pocket. i glanced side to side, ensuring that no
incredulous hikers, angry farmers, or jealous cattle were witness to my unsanitary behavior, and then positioned the bottle under the pipe. i waited a moment and took a great swig of cattle water. and for the next few days, life was glorious. i marched from mountain to mountain and never worried about water: there were plenty of cattle troughs in the alps.

the moral of the story is that there may come a time in belize when you're thirsty enough to risk a refreshing glass of well-disguised fecal water. in my case, it was ice. belize is like an outdoor microwave, everything gets warm rather quickly, and that includes bottled water and red fanta. thus, ice is a necessity, and by the end of the trip i didn't bother to ask "is this ice purified?" because their answer was invariably "yes." of course, that may very well explain my present condition.


andrew david. "good looking water" san ignacio town, belize.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

h2oj

everyone has morning rituals. i myself start each work day with a styrofoam cup full of orange-water juice. it's a refreshing reminder that i'm awake. this blog, the 17 point scale, is a lot like that orange-water juice.

point one: orange-water juice is a cheap alternative to full-on regular orange juice. it costs half as much! likewise, in contrast to other fine literature (which may require a costly visit to some used bookstore or online vendor), the 17 point scale costs half as much! well, actually, like most blogs, it's free.

as you may know, i'm cheap. but h2oj is the result of more than everyday economic obsessive compulsiveness. as much as i love orange juice, it has a decidedly acidic aftertaste. frankly, it's a bit much for my tastebuds. thus, i decided to go half-and-half, to combine fresh water from the VA fountain with low pulp tropicana.

there are many ways to relate this process to my blog. for instance, each post blends photos and prose. the blog fuses religion with art, literary commentary with mouth-watering recipes, pseudophilosophy with random goofiness.

better yet, the 17 point scale splashes somewhere between confessional and detatched. i share about my life, but i choose not to bore everyone with my daily activities (except making h2oj of course). this isn't a blog where you'll find sylvia plath with her head in an oven or --

holy goose! i hate to interrupt our regularly scheduled blog like this, but i just happened upon something a little bit crazy. you see, i was hoping to say something like: " [another famous confessional poet] poetically recounting the acrimony of her sex life," but i couldn't think of a good poet to fill-in-the-blank. so, as any frenzied blogger would do, i turned to google. there i typed "confessional poet sex." instead of finding robert lowell (did he write about sex?), anne sexton, or (thankfully) some strange and artsy porn site, i found mary karr...to everyone but beth (?) this may seem ho-hum-who-cares? but, beth, isn't this the girl that wrote that essay you were having me read tonight? the essay that some single-initialed literary type forwarded to greg wolfe at image? maybe not, but it sure sounds the same. and, if so, this is the girl who wrote cherry, that coming of age memoir that i was telling you about! crazy, eh?

errrrrrr...okay, so i'll write more about this blog's battle with confidentiality in some later post. sorry, good night.


andrew david. "view from our casa" yelapa, mexico.