Gloria and Julia visit Belize

In my mind, this summer was not one to be on the road all the time, but when my friend Grace Schrock was planning to get married in Belize, I simply couldn't stay home. Julia, 13, planned to go with me. It didn't seem fair to all the other children who couldn't go with us, but then how do you keep life fair? And so it was that Julia and I applied for passports and got tickets to go. When Julia was only two years old, she had been out of the country, which she remembered very little of, so this looked quite adventurous to her and was a privilege for me to take her with me. Two of our friends also planned to be traveling with us.

We were off early Wednesday morning, with my dad and mom also spending the night at our house to be with the children. At 8:00, Mom and the remaining five children headed for Ohio, where they dropped the children off with Daniel's family, and Mom went on to Holmes County, where she would stay with her widowed mother. Plans were to have them return home on Saturday evening and pick us up at the airport en route.

Though it was hard to leave the children, I also looked forward to the time with Julia and simply relaxing and traveling. As we took off on that first flight, I had to think of the word hope. As the plane climbs higher, so we climb higher as we set our ultimate hope in God Himself. That first flight was super relaxing and unwinding for me. I didn't even get far into my journal; it just felt good to rest a while. The next flight from Miami to Belize City was super smooth. Getting through customs was a different story, as we stood in line for hours. Finally, I fetched a wheelchair for the expectant lady who had been traveling with us. We did get through fine once our turn came — it was just extra full that day.

By suppertime we arrived at my friend Grace's house. It was awesome seeing her again. Though she is a couple of years younger than myself, we've shared some similar drama in our families, including foster care, adoption, death of a family member, and such. Grace's family from the states had all flown down to be with her over this time when she would marry Nelson, who is a Belize citizen and unable to come to the states at this point. Grace had met Nelson on a trip to Belize a few years ago.

Soon after our arrival, Grace's mother, Hannah, took me on a little tour around the house. "Look up," she said. My eyes widened. Surely not — I wanted to know if I was seeing right. "What is that?" I asked.

"Those are avocados."

These were real tree-ripened avocados, double the size of the ones we buy in the states. She went on to explain how they are also so much richer and more buttery than the ones in the states. The picnic table on the porch was almost covered with fresh avocados and mangoes, which were ripening for another day or two until they were ready to eat. When the question came up about when we wanted supper, I told them an avocado is all I need — what would be more of a treat than just that? That night I discovered a whole avocado was enough for Julia and I both, enough for the fill and the memories made in the meanwhile.

Several of us stayed at a house which was only a five-mile walk from Grace's house. It felt good to unwind and refresh after a day of travel.

The following morning we went to a local restaurant and a few shops. The tortillas that morning were a hit alongside their traditional sauce and real orange juice made from fresh oranges and watermelon juice made from watermelon! I was intrigued with my surroundings, to say the least. Experiencing different cultures is something I have always enjoyed; this was no exception. I loved the more laid-back way of life and the simple homes among the palm trees. As a girl, I dreamed of being a missionary in Central America. Well, I wasn't exactly there as a missionary, but I was in Central America.

The rest of the day consisted of relaxing at the house, then helping with wedding preparations at the college where the wedding was scheduled to be the following afternoon.

By 7:00 that evening, the tables were set up and a basic outline was in place. We made more memories by eating at a park where we ordered our food from little roadside stands. The other girls ordered their food first while Julia and I sprinted across the street to a little shop where I bought flip-flops for each of the children as presents from Belize.

The time at the park passed swiftly as we chatted and enjoyed more Belizian food and culture. It was time to get back to Grace's house, where we planned to make peanut butter pies for the bridal party at the wedding.

Now I don't have the recipe for the rice we had there, so I'll be giving you one for Haitian rice which we have come to enjoy very much, even here in the states.

Haitian Rice with Sauce

3 cups water

1 ½ cup rice

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 ½ teas chicken base

½ teas garlic powder

1 ½ teas salt

1 cup cooked pinto or black beans (opt)

Sauce:

2 cups pizza sauce

1 cup chicken broth

¾ teaspoon garlic powder

¾ teaspoon salt

¾ teaspoon black pepper

½ Tablespoon real lemon

½ cup chicken, diced

½ cup potatoes, diced

½ cup carrots, sliced

½ cup cabbage, chopped

½ cup onions, chopped

Instructions

For the rice:

1. Pour water, oil, and seasoning into a medium sauce pan.

2. Bring to boil, add rice. Stir then simmer for 10 minutes.

3. DO NOT stir while simmering.

4. Remove from heat, cover and let set another 10 minutes.

5. Fluff with a spoon and add beans.

6. Spoon onto your plate and ladle a generous serving of the following sauce on top. Very good!