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In by Wyatt on October 16, 2010 at 12:04 am

Belize flows along an easygoing river towards an uncertain future. Staggering natural beauty drenched in a Caribbean climate sits and watches silently as centuries of conflict sweep by. The eclectic Garifuna culture washes syncopated rhythms over the small cafes and school yards. It feels pleasantly deserted, relaxedly free.

With the influx of tourism that brought me to Belize’s shores came the startling (and unnerving) juxtaposition of wealth against poverty. The five star resorts dot a coastline of driftwood shacks and cinderblock homes. Piles of pink conch shells lie wasting in the harsh sun outside Westernized restaurants.

And we watch, unsure.


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