Monday, August 28, 2023
I grew up in Fuller’s Alley off Cemetery Road in Belize City in the 1960’s. It was an area so full of colorful characters, good neighbors, and some great friendships were formed as we passed from childhood into adolescence. Most of the friends whom I was close to are no longer with us, the rest, scattered about the planet. Then was a time of innocence, discovering the secrets of life, of girls, of our eventual maturation into our most formative years. It was a very safe neighborhood. Not one of our friends died from violence; in fact, death was very alien to us, unlike today. We had Edwards Park, we had the slaughterhouse, we had Jones shoe factory, Turnell’s machine shop, Matron Robert’s Health Centre, the ice factory, Bruhier’grocery, Mr. Gill’s sweets shop/restaurant, the YMCA, the lee maakit on the canal side, Gabourel’s grocery, Meighan’s barbershop, where Meighan would leave you in the barber chair, with your hair half cut, and go eat lunch, or take care of some other chore. We were self-contained and safe and happy!
To reminisce is one of the favorite art forms these days, universally. To be able to compare the past to the now. In spite of all the progress in technology and everything else about us these days, the past will always win that comparison! That’s my personal opinion. The saying that ignorance is bliss is more real, more accurate than we could ever imagine. I could never have looked into the future back then, at 10 or 11 years old, and forecasted the mess that we’ve made of this world, this neighborhood, that formed the foundation for our future. Simplicity is such an underrated word. A sugar corn popsicle was a treat, or lemonade and cake, or craboo ice cream! To be able to go steal mangoes or guavas from a neighbor’s yard was considered an act so criminal as to have resulted in the worst lashing as a consequence! Simplicity.
We would go to where Belcan Bridge is now, without our parents’ knowledge, of course. This was years before the bridge was built; swimming across the Old River, dodging the feces that flowed out of the canals. Unaware of the consequences of bacteria—what bacteria? Ignorance is bliss! There were no gangs and turfs and beefs and retribution, at least not in the true sense, as there is today. We fought each other with our fists, accepted our defeats and our victories and moved on. Corporal punishment was a way of life for us; even our neighbors could discipline us, without fear of recrimination from our parents. In fact, we wouldn’t even tell our parents for fear of double punishment!
We were children, and we were friends. No one was marginalized; sure, we made fun of some awkward kid. But we also had their backs—no ostracism, no shame to be seen with someone a little different, physically or mentally. Innocence would not allow such meanness. We kids would go to matinees together, to the different school fairs together, to watch the parades and funerals; we were together all day until tea time. We would tease older people and get chased all over the place. That was the limit of our “badness.” Tea time was around 6:00 p.m. Your parents were home; you took your bath and did your homework and were in bed by 9:00, the latest. Simplicity.
What I wouldn’t do to go back to those times, to the discoveries, the wonder of it all! To be so truly happy and content and trusting and expectant of the unknown.
But since then, again, so much has happened. We have traveled the world, we have become adults, parents, and responsible citizens. Some of us have succeeded, some have failed, and most of my friends from Fuller’s Alley and Cemetery Road are gone from this earth. Oh well, it’s good that I can still remember it all, treasure it all, without regrets. We belonged, and I hope I never forget! At some point in our lives all we have left are our memories, if we are that lucky!
“These beauteous forms, through a long absence, have not been to me as is a landscape to a blind man’s eye:
“But oft in lonely rooms, ‘mid the din of towns and cities, I have owed to them, in hours of weariness, sensations sweet, felt in the blood, and felt along the heart;
“And passing even into my purer mind with tranquil restoration:” — Tintern Abbey by Wordsworth.
Glen