My (Ellen LaCoste) interview with Jeanne:

Ellen: Okay, I've seen your photos from Belize, what was your favorite thing to do?

Jeanne: Explore the Mayan ruins in all the intimate detail I desired - a joy that earned me many sore muscles - those steps are tough - knee high and higher, so I'd get pretty tuckered by the time I reached the tops.... that's how Paul managed to get a picture of me admiring the view, while I took a break halfway up El Capitan (at the Carocol site)



Ellen: Who was your favorite 'away' person?

Jeanne: Valentine, who spoke the local brand of Creole with a musical cadence & loved the history of his ancestors - he was a fountain of information.



Ellen: What was the weather like?

Jeanne: Dry without making one's skin feel like dust; 80's during the day and down to a chilly 50-ish at night.



Ellen: Did people speak any Spanish there?

Jeanne: Supposedly Belize's official language is English, however it's a small country, surrounded by Spanish-speaking countries, so many of the words sounded more Spanish to my ears. Down in the banana fields by the coast, we met field hands who only spoke Spanish. However, in general the language is a lilting mix of dialects and base-languages. For instance, the resort we stayed at was about 10 miles from the Guatemala border, so the locals, spoke a higher percentage of Spanish, plus it had Mayan words added in along with English.

On day one, I realized Spanish was something I needed to work on.

Ellen: Can you provide us with a personal or favorite quote on any subject relevant to reading/writing/history (anything goes here..)

Jeanne:

"Take away Love and our earth is a tomb."

- Robert Browning


Ellen: What is your favorite memory?

Jeanne: While cross-country skiing in the Smoky Mountains, it started snowing - those big fat flakes, which made me feel as if I was in a crystal cocoon. As visibility decreased, we came across a steaming stream and followed it until we came to a small pool where ferns prospered and wild flowers bloomed on the banks.

We entered the invisible wall of warmth, shed our gear and clamored into the steamy water.

Sitting in hot water, surrounded by blooming spring flowers, we leaned back on the warm rocks and looked up at the steady snow, which never landed.

It was a magical interlude.