Escarcega, Mexico feels very far away from Tobacco Caye, Belize.  Two long days of driving, an accidental overnight in Belize City and an uneventful border crossing (for once!) has led us here.  It seems funny to be “on our way home,” whatever “home” means.  I’m happy to report that the adventure of the day did NOT involve any monkey business at the border; although there was plenty of monkey business.

Up close and personal with a howler monkey

The Community Baboon Sanctuary is located just west of Burrel Boom in Belize.  It’s a little tricky to find (although reading the signs instead of knitting probably increases one’s odds of locating it on the first try) and we made one 13 km wrong turn before pulling in next to a busload of school children.  The sanctuary was the brain child of a scientist from Wisconsin who studied the monkeys and made it his life’s work to protect them.  Contrary to the name of the place, it is a reserve for Black Howler Monkeys, which the locals have always called baboons.

Baby monkey

We learned so much in an hour.  Our guide introduced us to local medicinal plants, including one that is a “bush pregnancy test, the leaf turns yellow if you’re pregnant.” We were introduced to saw palmetto plants, mahogany trees (national tree of Belize) cashew trees (and the wine made from their fruit, which is different from the nut) and the palm locals use to make cooking oil.  Hannah was suitably horrified when our guide pointed out the huge nest of termites in one tree and then explained how they make little mud tunnels down the trunk of the trees to get to the ground where they find dead wood to eat.  “Termites are high in water content, as well as protein,” she explained.  “If you find yourself stuck out in the jungle you can eat them.  I find that they taste a lot like mint and crunch like a carrot!” she added, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.  She scratched open the mud tube and picked one out, popping it into her mouth for effect.  Not to be outdone, Gabe licked his finger and picked one up, “Yep, kinda minty, not bad.”  Add termite to his list of insects ingested on this trip.

Mother and baby

The howler monkeys exceeded everyone’s expectations.  Ezra, after his nocturnal encounter with their eerie cries in Guatemala was braver than expected.  These fellows came right down out of the canopy and sat on a branch just inches away.  Two mothers greedily ate banana pieces out of the children’s hands while their tiny babies hung by their tails and frolicked on the green branches.  When the banana had run out one of the mother monkeys cocked her head to the side and then reached out for Ezra’s head.  He stood stalk still as she picked through his hair for a moment, grooming him, and looking for lice, happily, she didn’t find any.  He rolled his shoulders and grinned, “EVERYBODY likes to rub my head, even the monkeys!!”

Gabriel scored the only injury of the day.  He was bitten.  Not by a monkey, but by a BIG warrior leaf cutter ant.  Our guide stomped hard on the nest several times to anger the ants, who promptly sent out their finest for our review.  She showed us how sharp their teeth were and how to use them as “jungle stitches” if you get a really bad cut in the jungle, by holding an ant by the posterior and having him pinch across the cut with his razor sharp jaws and then twisting his body off so that his head and jaws remain imbedded in your arm.  It was in the middle of that dramatic lesson that the screaming began.  Gabe was, all of a sudden, howling like a monkey and jumping around on the ant nest (inducing more mean ants to surface).  He’d been bitten, and hard by the look of the blood pouring from the wound and dripping down into his shoe.  It took him a while to recover, even after my joke about it being a “hands-on field trip.”  Somehow, the humor was lost on him.

Crossing back into Mexico was a breeze.  Of course everyone will be disappointed that we don’t have some fabulous or hideous story of third world woe to tell, but we’re happy enough.  Stamped out of Belize.  Drove past the casino in no man’s land.  Stamped into Mexico.  Tipped the parking attendant.  Got the green light.  Didn’t get fleeced for ten bucks until we stopped for gas at the first Pemex station.  Naturally.  Bienvenidos a Mexico.