(08/14/23)
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Junglepixiebelize - Recollections of a Gringa Pioneer
Nancy R Koerner - Copyright@2023 - All Rights Reserved
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
"Envy of a Bygone Era"
For today’s entry, I am going to depart briefly from my usual chronology, and instead feature a thread with Amiel Topsey – who had been responding to one of my previous episodes a few years ago. The episode was: Chapter 35 “Stoney Blue’s Treehouse” – an experience in the deep jungles of Toledo, so gratifying to my inner-Tarzan. A visit with real-life wild-man “Stoney Blue,” it had been perhaps the most primitive adventure in all my time in Belize.
As in most of my episodes, I make it a point to inject some humour and irony. And, well… let’s just say that some people “get” me, and some people don't. Amiel does. In fact, I found his response so expressive, and achingly beautiful, it was a virtual feast for heart-and-soul. Reactions like these are what inspire me to keep writing the Gringa Pioneer series. Not to mention, my astonishment at Amiel’s highly artistic ability to wield the proverbial pen. In fact, I don't just stand in awe of his talent, it gives me chills.
Amiel (to me):
Your reaction indicates that you lack the crass insensitivities of American humor...like most Belizeans who can't seem to identify with this brand of sarcasm...I offer up this disclaimer post haste... sometimes I forget that we have not yet removed the proverbial stick from parts of us that enjoy some comic relief... Good read I must add...I had no trouble reading to the end... which made me want to build a tree house somewhere out in the woods myself... stories like these are meant to inspire envy...in the deep appreciation of time and place so far removed from where we are that I can only find it somewhere between dream and imagination...with the cold dry reminder of our moldy colonial distinction... I can relate to the explorer in all humanity...seeing what the mind often rejects in its reflection...and taking home only what parts of us seem fit to deem worthy of approval... The proverbial scorpions inhabit the mind of those too afraid to look into the void...for fear they do not return. |
The envy is in the fact that this is a bygone era...from my small perspective...the world has changed so much and much of this seems to be just before the world as I know it... Envy is the feeling of wanting what you can't have or enjoy yourself.. and though there is considerable inspiration in this enjoyable read to write about my own experiences... When we are empathetic to another's experiences...and can grasp the magic of her moment as a young mother living in a wild and untamed version of southern Belize... (Still very much as it is today) I, the young reader, can take myself there and imagine just how much will never be the same again... We cannot have life without change...but as we live and grow in awareness...the more we realize that not all change is for the better...The world as we know it seems to constantly fade into the coming age... leaving the artifacts and remnants of our lives behind...our memories...our dreams ...hopes and
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aspirations... are what keep us moving forward...but to look back from how far we have come is a different reality...one fixed in stone... and hardened by time... Oh ...what a joy it would be to turn back the clock...and perhaps if only to live it all once more...
Nancy to Amiel:
Your comment about "envy" has inspired some introspection on my part. (And truthfully, I am in awe of your "word-smithing." Mind that I don't plagiarize some of it in the future.) Strangely enough, I can't say that I had much considered my stories might make readers "envious." (My bad.) Instead, I have thought simply in terms of making people happy. But I take your point, especially for the generations of young people who missed the era altogether -- never having had the chance -- even if they had chosen the lifestyle. Of course, that equation also came part-and-parcel with all the intense risk, pain, deprivation, heartache, and consequences. And scorpions. And flood, and wildfire, and earthquake, and hurricane. And personal tragedy. Make no mistake, some of us *didn't* make it. Some of us lost our hearts. And minds. And families. Some of us died. And some were simply "never heard from again."
Your comment about "envy" has inspired some introspection on my part. (And truthfully, I am in awe of your "word-smithing." Mind that I don't plagiarize some of it in the future.) Strangely enough, I can't say that I had much considered my stories might make readers "envious." (My bad.) Instead, I have thought simply in terms of making people happy. But I take your point, especially for the generations of young people who missed the era altogether -- never having had the chance -- even if they had chosen the lifestyle. Of course, that equation also came part-and-parcel with all the intense risk, pain, deprivation, heartache, and consequences. And scorpions. And flood, and wildfire, and earthquake, and hurricane. And personal tragedy. Make no mistake, some of us *didn't* make it. Some of us lost our hearts. And minds. And families. Some of us died. And some were simply "never heard from again."
Amiel to me
My words erupt from the pre-dawn clarity of the mind...a part of fragmented reality that is constantly adrift... I live in constant fear of the moment when the sun begins to rise ...and the mind begins to fade into the obscurity of each day... If I do not write I talk too much...and become overwhelmed with the anxieties of wanting to get out and keep drifting... Feel free to use what words have been evoked in my comments here to you...if you find any use or inspiration in them at all... to me they are like signal flares blasting off from a moment of despair....all in the hope that someone might be close enough to find them... Nancy to Amiel: I am profoundly grateful that these stories are worthy of remembering, that they allow my fans to be vicarious armchair explorers in a time that once-was. But, in my heart-of-hearts, your comment has made me realize that I, too, am envious -- yes -- envious of my *own* experiences. I miss them with the same fiery passion-for-life that led me to that live that way in |
in the first place. And yes, that Belize-of-old is, indeed, gone. Now, when I go back to visit, I am constantly comparing "how-it-was" to "how-much-it-has-changed." I try not to be obsessed with it, but mostly fail. And, when *not* talking about the past with old contemporaries, I find myself going farther afield each time, to try and find what is left of the wild unspoiled Belizean wilderness.
Like a hermit, I shun the ever-expanding populated areas while there, preferring to be in the high-bush, or on the river, or discovering new caves, or exploring old familiar ones -- taking solace in the places that have not changed.
Perhaps the hardest part of getting old, at least for me, is not the aging itself, but rather the feeling of "becoming irrelevant." So, for that reason, I want to sincerely thank my readers. Because, without you, I would have no stage upon which to wax nostalgic. And you would have no stories to envy. *************
Nancy to Amiel: You are a poetic soul, Amiel Topsey, with so much to give. So – better you revel in drifting, and share your thoughts. “Do not fear the coming of the day. The sun will rise, whether we fear it or not.” NK |