Junglepixiebelize - Recollections of a Gringa Pioneer
Nancy R Koerner - Copyright@2021 - All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"Good Friday Alligator"
In the United States, journalists and newspapers have always prided themselves on writing tight, minimalist headlines, with high visual impact. For example, famous headlines from the early 20th Century read: “GREAT WAR ENDS,” or “ATOMIC BOMB HITS JAPAN.” Or, from my own lifetime, such mind-boggling headlines, such as “KENNEDY SLAIN,” or “MAN WALKS ON THE MOON.”
So I had little point-of-reference for the headline I saw in a copy of the tiny Belizean newspaper, Amandala, following the Easter holiday. It was the polar-opposite of the short concise single-liner so common in U.S. news. “GOOD FRIDAY ALLIGATOR ATTACKS MAN AND EATS PORTIONS OF HIM” Anything but succinct, yet nevertheless effective – as even now, forty years later, the story remains in my mind as clearly as if I were reading it for the first time. |
To understand the context, you must realize that Belize was mostly Catholic. There were other religions, and various sects, such as the Mennonites, Jehovah Witness, Pentecostal, and Seventh Day Adventists. But the majority of Belizeans were Catholic, and therefore greatly superstitious about one particular day of the year: Good Friday. In Belize, the day when Jesus Christ was crucified, it was accepted far and wide as a day to stay home, stay indoors. It should be a day observed in quiet contemplation, if not overt, conspicuous fear. “Behave in a way so that God doesn’t notice you,” one Belizean friend had advised. However, on this particular Good Friday, one foolhardy soul had opposed convention, and had the temerity to go fishing that fateful morning on New River Lagoon in northern central Belize. According to the journalist, the man had been wading into the water of the lagoon among the reeds, and innocently casting his line.
In Belize, we have the two kinds of “alligators,” neither of them being actual alligators, but rather two types of crocodiles: the American Crocodile, which can live in fresh or saltwater, and the Morelet’s Crocodile, which can live in only fresh. New River Lagoon has both, the former Crocodylus acutusi being much larger, and typically, much more aggressive. Plus, it was mating season, which would certainly not have improved the manners of either species.
However, in his last terrified moments, the hapless victim was certainly not evaluating the Linnaean zoological classification of either type of saurian. I am sure that all he saw were the protruding nostrils, bulging eyeballs, and swishing tail of the beast – his last desperate thought being “wa big haligeta, dat.” (En serio. Pobrecito. 😔) The man had screamed for help, and managed to attract the attention of a neighbour, who grabbed his shotgun, ran to the water’s edge, and fired. The croc was hit by the blast, and killed, but not in time. The giant reptilian had already succeeded in dismembering and partially consuming the luckless fisherman.
As per the phraseology of the rambling headline, the article then described just exactly “which portions” of the man’s body had been eaten. Suffice it to say it was both sensational and gruesome. I was horrified, but also mesmerized by the childlike reporting style. It was like nothing I’d ever seen in a newspaper before.
“But wait, there’s more,” as they say. The wry twist was yet to come.
The local inhabitants had come to the river with ropes, and hauled the dead crocodile to the village. The newly-widowed wife, although keening her anguish, had deliberated for a time, and then made a decision. She directed them to drag the huge crocodile into her thatched house, and leave it there on the hard-packed marl floor. Then she followed through with a plan of resigned resourcefulness and practicality. In the days that followed, the widow had allowed villagers and curious passers-by from many miles away to come in and view the “haligeta” and had charged them a shilling each ($.25 BZE) to view the creature. In that unique way, she had paid for her husband’s funeral.
Overall, it was a tragedy, and I was saddened and horrified at circumstances of the man’s death. I wanted to cry. But, in truth, paradoxically, I also wanted to laugh. After all, how *does* one react to such a story? In the end, I could only shake my head at the irony. OK, I thought. You just can’t make this shit up.
Yep. Only in Belize.
Belizean Kriol Proverb: “Neva kaal haligeta big mowt sotay yu kraas di riba.” (Never call alligator “big mouth” until you cross the river.)
In Belize, we have the two kinds of “alligators,” neither of them being actual alligators, but rather two types of crocodiles: the American Crocodile, which can live in fresh or saltwater, and the Morelet’s Crocodile, which can live in only fresh. New River Lagoon has both, the former Crocodylus acutusi being much larger, and typically, much more aggressive. Plus, it was mating season, which would certainly not have improved the manners of either species.
However, in his last terrified moments, the hapless victim was certainly not evaluating the Linnaean zoological classification of either type of saurian. I am sure that all he saw were the protruding nostrils, bulging eyeballs, and swishing tail of the beast – his last desperate thought being “wa big haligeta, dat.” (En serio. Pobrecito. 😔) The man had screamed for help, and managed to attract the attention of a neighbour, who grabbed his shotgun, ran to the water’s edge, and fired. The croc was hit by the blast, and killed, but not in time. The giant reptilian had already succeeded in dismembering and partially consuming the luckless fisherman.
As per the phraseology of the rambling headline, the article then described just exactly “which portions” of the man’s body had been eaten. Suffice it to say it was both sensational and gruesome. I was horrified, but also mesmerized by the childlike reporting style. It was like nothing I’d ever seen in a newspaper before.
“But wait, there’s more,” as they say. The wry twist was yet to come.
The local inhabitants had come to the river with ropes, and hauled the dead crocodile to the village. The newly-widowed wife, although keening her anguish, had deliberated for a time, and then made a decision. She directed them to drag the huge crocodile into her thatched house, and leave it there on the hard-packed marl floor. Then she followed through with a plan of resigned resourcefulness and practicality. In the days that followed, the widow had allowed villagers and curious passers-by from many miles away to come in and view the “haligeta” and had charged them a shilling each ($.25 BZE) to view the creature. In that unique way, she had paid for her husband’s funeral.
Overall, it was a tragedy, and I was saddened and horrified at circumstances of the man’s death. I wanted to cry. But, in truth, paradoxically, I also wanted to laugh. After all, how *does* one react to such a story? In the end, I could only shake my head at the irony. OK, I thought. You just can’t make this shit up.
Yep. Only in Belize.
Belizean Kriol Proverb: “Neva kaal haligeta big mowt sotay yu kraas di riba.” (Never call alligator “big mouth” until you cross the river.)