My Hero, the Stranger

Everyone told me I was crazy for wanting to travel through Central America by myself as a small young girl from the middle of nowhere of rural eastern Washington. I had just gotten through a bad breakup that extended through the whole summer. I almost wanted to do it to escape the constant phone calls and disparagement of my ex more than any other reason since I always eventually answered to tell him to leave me alone. Therefore, travelling internationally to avoid having a working phone sounded great, no matter how scared I was.

I had heard of other people doing it. After all the obstacles I’ve overcame, if they could do it, I could do it. I stay aware of my surroundings, never run with headphones in, don’t wear flashy clothes, and have an unwelcoming facial expression if I don’t feel like socializing. I’ve grown up on ranches working with horses; consequently, I am quite fit and can handle an angry animal ten times my size coming at me and lift weight my own size, so I am made up of muscle and have quick reactions. This also means most people don’t scare me. Additionally, having just been in a very toxic relationship, I found it very unlikely that this journey would be any worse than my experiences there if I took reasonable precautions. So, despite what everyone said, I went for it. I was terrified, but I decided I was sure I could figure it out.

Mexico was mostly a breeze. I flew into Cancun arriving late at night. I stayed at a hostel then checked out Isla Mujeres the next morning which was an amazing island a short ferry distance away. The sand was the softest, most powdery white sand I had ever felt. If I could have a house with floors made up of this sand, I would. The water felt like clear blue bath water. This is where I came to my first minor disappointment of travelling solo. I love swimming but realized I couldn’t leave my belongings on the beach unattended. Since it was a daytrip to an island I had never been to, I had to have at least some money and things with me. I eventually found a secluded area that gave me the opportunity to jump into the water, but not really swim carefree like I would do in the rivers and lake of the Northwest.

I spent the next couple weeks travelling down the eastern coast of Mexico. I started finding people from the hostels to check out places with. I checked out Mayan ruins, swam in cenotes, and basically did as many things in a day as I could fit in despite it being the rainy season. I checked in with my dad nightly, who also was not happy about me travelling solo through areas he thought were dangerous.

As I made my way down the coast using busses, I also decided to check out the island of Cozumel for a couple nights to go scuba diving. The ferry ride was great. I enjoyed the sunshine with a nice beer after eating fresh ceviche at the dock while waiting for departure. Upon arrival at Cozumel, my relaxing day became a little more hectic. Now it was time to find my hostel. Since I didn’t have a phone, I didn’t have GPS, but I did have an app where I could download maps in advance on my phone; however, these maps were not always super great. While I was trying to plan my navigation to the hostel as I was walking out of the ferry terminal, a Hummer packed with guys about my age drove by on the one way.

Having lived in San Jose, Costa Rica a year before, I was used to cat calling, but this was not your typical cat calling. These men started hollering profanities at me laughing and following me in their Hummer, getting offended that I wasn’t giving them the attention they felt they deserved. I started walking the other way on the sidewalk despite it being the wrong direction to get to my hostel since they could not follow me on the one way if I did. This caused them to start yelling at me even more, but in a much angrier tone. I crossed the street and took off running off the main road in the general direction of my hostel, zigzagging through some blocks so they would not know where I went after I saw them turn on the next block. I kept hidden but saw them driving back and forth up the streets looking for me as I tucked around corners. I finally got to my hostel, but since the island was small, I didn’t leave the whole time I was there except to go scuba diving, which was offered from the hostel.

The summer prior I had been living in San Diego working at the zoo. Since I was only there for the summer and places were expensive and most required a year lease, I ended up living at a hostel for the summer about 5 minutes from the zoo. One of my roommates there was from Tijuana whom I became very close with. He had told me to call if I had any trouble, so I did. He told me that these sounded like rich kids that felt entitled to anything, or anyone, and I needed to be careful because I probably would not get help from law enforcement if something happened.

After sharing my experience with someone from the hostel on the island as well, I also had someone walk me back to the ferry when it was time to leave. Once again, I was questioning how wise it was to be attempting this trip on my own. It felt a little pathetic needing someone to walk me through a touristic island.

My last day in Mexico, I bought my bus ticket to Belize. It was an overnight bus ride, leaving at 10pm and arriving in Belize City at 7am. I brought enough snacks and water to last me til I got there the next morning. Here is where my troubles began.

I read that at the border crossing, the border patrol would charge you an “exit tax” to leave Mexico that didn’t actually exist which you could get out of if you pointed it out or didn’t have the money on you. Having been across the border of Mexico at San Diego several times without an exit tax, I figured that I would be fine and didn’t bother withdrawing more pesos to ensure I could cover the amount. I figured I would instead withdraw money in Belize, because I also heard you would usually get ripped off exchanging pesos for Belize dollars. Boy, was I naïve.

We arrived at the border of Belize around 3am. I tried arguing that they couldn’t charge me for a tax that didn’t exist, even waiting for the end of the line so as not to point it out in a way that would make a scene, which I read was helpful for avoiding this tax. They didn’t care. I was about $5 short (USD) of the amount they expected me to pay with no ATM around. They said I was not getting back on my bus to reach my destination without it, which would have left me stranded at the border. I was constantly told the borders were the most unsafe places to be. Thankfully, another traveler from South America helped me out. I offered to pay them back when we got to Belize City, but they said not to worry about it.

We arrived in Belize City on time at 7am. I was somewhat sick of beaches after being in San Diego all summer then travelling down a coast for a few weeks, so I wanted to go deeper into the jungle. I headed for San Ignacio and had already booked my hostel there.

As we entered Belize City, there were people everywhere, seemingly just hanging out at 7am. I could tell I wasn’t in the best neighborhood as we approached the bus terminal. As soon as I got off the bus, I tried finding an ATM. I still wanted to pay back the traveler that helped me out, and I no longer had the slightest bit of money left from paying the Mexico border patrol for my “exit tax.” I no longer even had any food or water left and wanted to grab some snacks for the bus ride to San Ignacio which was also supposed to be fairly long.

I was told the nearest ATM was about a half hour walk from the terminal, which was especially disappointing since I had all of my luggage with me and was skeptical of the neighborhood I was in. I also was worried about being back on time for my bus to San Ignacio, as I was told there was only one bus departure per day at that time or from that terminal. I heard the bus driver call for San Ignacio. I asked him if I had time to go to the ATM or other options to get there. He said I could pay him when I got there and to get on, because he would be gone when I got back, so I got on.

The bus was a colorful old school bus. Once on, I endured the most miserable, crowded bus ride of my life. People were borderline sitting on my lap the whole way in a bus without air conditioning. I even had kids crawling in my lap at one point, despite trying to block them with my backpack, but they didn’t seem discouraged. What was supposed to be a three-hour bus ride was more like five hours from all the stops, which mostly led to the bus getting more crowded. I saw Mennonites in horse drawn carriages along the way which surprised me, but mostly the bus ride was miserable.

We got into San Ignacio in the midafternoon. The bus driver would not allow me to take my luggage until I went to the ATM across the street and brought him back my bus fare, which was only a few dollars USD. When I got there, the ATM declined all my cards. I tried asking him if I could go to the ATM of one of the banks down the street, because my card would not work at this ATM. Inside, I was panicking that maybe the bank messed up my travel notice and didn’t clear me for card use in all the countries I was travelling through, but I was trying to remain calm. He said there was no time, and I could pay him at his next stop at the Guatemalan border that was a little over 20 miles away, so I needed to get back on the bus.

When we got to the border, there was just a few closed businesses and banks after he dropped off the remaining passengers. When we finally found a bank that was open, I was informed that they could not accept international cards and the nearest ATM that could was back at a particular bank in San Ignacio. I told this to the bus driver and pleaded with him to let me use that ATM when he passed back through San Ignacio so I could pay him. Instead, he got very angry, saying he was done wasting time on me. He threw out my luggage and kicked me off the bus on the side of the road in the middle of the jungle in hot, humid weather 20 miles from the town I was supposed to be in with no food or water. I kept trying to tell him I would pay him if he gave me the opportunity to, but he just said I could walk or hitchhike back and drove off. It was late afternoon at this point. I had been up all night on bus rides and had no food or water all day and was stuck by myself on the side of the road in an area that everyone told me was dangerous. I felt defeated. I sat down and cried for a moment, feeling like everyone was right about me being in over my head doing this trip solo.

After I had a moment to feel sorry for myself, I decided I couldn’t just sit there until nightfall, so I put on my big girl pants and pulled myself up. I grabbed my luggage and started walking the 20 miles back to San Ignacio without food or water. I couldn’t think about how hopeless and dumb I felt. I just had to do what needed to be done. A few cars went by, and I was tempted to hitchhike, but having never done so at that point in my life, I was too afraid of what could happen if I did and could only think of all of the hitchhiking horror stories I had heard back in the US which made me even more skeptical to attempt it abroad, especially alone.

About 20-30 minutes into my walk, another colorful school bus, as was characteristic of the buses in Belize, went by me. He hollered “San Ignacio?” to me as he stopped. I immediately spoke as fast as words could come out of my mouth explaining to them the situation. I told him about my incident with the last bus driver and that I would gladly him pay him when I arrived at San Ignacio if I could use the ATM that worked, IF it worked. Another bus, driven by the bus driver’s father, pulled up as I was finishing up talking to the young bus driver. He started talking to him in a Creole/Spanish mix I couldn’t quite understand.

After a few moments, the first bus driver said “Okay, you will ride with me to San Ignacio, and we will put your luggage on my dad’s bus to go to Belize City.” I was so confused. Somehow there was some major miscommunication. I asked why we would be doing that? He thought I needed to go back to Belize City and just stop in San Ignacio and there wasn’t room on his father’s bus. My overexplaining had left them as confused as I felt. I replied, “No, I’m just trying to get to San Ignacio.” He replied, “Oh! Just grab your stuff and get on then!”

I was so grateful and relieved I could hardly contain myself. This nice young man gave me a ride back to San Ignacio as the only person on his bus. We arrived in San Ignacio around 5pm. When we arrived at the same location as the first bus driver, I told him, “Okay, I need to run to the ATM that accepts international cards at that bank down the street” as I pointed to a bank a block away. “I can leave my luggage here as leverage if you would like, but the other ATMs won’t work” expecting to be rushed or not allowed to take my stuff like the first bus driver. Much to my surprise and relief, he responded, “Don’t worry about it.” I wasn’t sure if I understood him correctly. Don’t worry about my luggage? He could clearly see my confusion, so he added “no charge.” I was so happy I jumped up and hugged him, hoping that it was not an inappropriate response.

I almost started crying when I realized that this man just saved me from a very scary situation brought on by my own stupidity. I finally let myself comprehend how bad of a situation I almost was in. I didn’t allow myself to give into the fear I felt before because I needed to still be thinking clearly, but I almost couldn’t contain myself I felt so relieved. He laughed at how emotional I was from his simple act of kindness, probably not even realizing that he would forever be a hero in my eyes.

I would like to say my trip got easier from there, but I concluded that Belize and I were not vibing at that time. I only stayed a few days in Belize before moving on to Guatemala. I arrived at the hostel who had thought I wasn’t showing up and had to clarify with them what happened. I dropped off my luggage, went to the ATM, then went to the small corner market to get something to tide me over until I went to find a proper place to eat. I grabbed a drinkable yogurt along with some warm waters in plastic bottles since my stomach hurt from lack of food and hydration. I got out of the store and down the street and realized it was already open and mostly drank.

A day or so later was Belize’s Independence Day. After hanging out for the festivities and fireworks, I went to lay down after it died down. The hostel had a decent amount of cockroaches that were easy enough to ignore if I stayed away from the walls. The light shown through the fogged class window of the door leading out to the lobby. While laying down with some other travelers in the bunks nearby, screaming and flashing light started coming from the hostel lobby accompanied by a loud Bang! Bang! Bang! resembling gunshots of an automatic gun.

The screaming and noise stopped, followed by a chilling silence. The girl in the bunk above me was scared and crying. I laid stiff as a board hardly breathing for fear of being heard. I wanted to hide somewhere, but the only place was under the bed which I KNEW probably had a decent number of cockroaches and other creepy crawlies. Realistically, it wasn’t much of a hiding place, plus I was afraid of making noise and drawing attention to our room, so I just laid as still as possible.

Eventually, after what seemed like forever, I started hearing noises and laughing in the distance. I tried to comprehend what was happening outside that door but could not anticipate what to expect. Once voices returned to normal, I gave it about 10 more minutes then headed out. Apparently, someone lit off fireworks in the lobby. I felt stupid for being so scared, and even more stupid for feeling so helpless while being that scared.

After the first couple days in Belize, I decided if ever there was a sign I should move on, I was getting all of them. My experiences made me nervous about heading into Guatemala and another border crossing, but I was much mor prepared for worst case scenarios. I ended up having the time of my life in Guatemala.

Thankfully, on my last day in Belize I was able to tie up loose ends. I was grabbing a beer with someone from the hostel at a spot near the center square. I saw the bus driver who helped me pull up to the bus stop, collecting bus fares from people getting on the bus. I ran out and was able to pay him for my bus ride along with the fare that was supposed to go to the other bus driver. After what I went through, I didn’t feel bad about not paying the other driver. I had many people help me along my journey, but outside of my obvious heroes who have helped me throughout my life, he will forever be one of my biggest heroes for such a small act of kindness. Nobody has restored my faith in humanity so much with such a simple thing.